


Interdimensionally Inspired to a Temporal Extent

by Arken_Stone1



Series: The Blue Box Chronicles [4]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Normal Life, Amnesia, Character Death, Deja Vu all over again, Domestics, F/M, First Dates, First Kiss, Ghosts, How to build a sonic screwdriver in an AU, Humor, Mind Meld, Nineteenth Doctor - Freeform, Quantum Mechanics, Romantic Comedy, The Author Regrets Nothing, The Doctor Flirts, The Doctor gets a girlfriend, The Doctor needs to get laid, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved emotional/ romantic/ sexual tension, quantum physics, trigger-happy phlebotomist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-04 08:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21194969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arken_Stone1/pseuds/Arken_Stone1
Summary: SEQUEL TO METEOR TALES.  When an odd book captures librarian Olivia Brasseaux's interest, it leads her to Dr. Christopher Noble, quantum physics professor. The brusque, snarky, virile professor with his piercing blue eyes, lean runner's body and that sensual Northern English burr inspire her to attend into one of his lectures.Christopher Noble feels his hearts explode in his chest when his estranged wife, Olivia Brasseaux, unexpectedly appears at one of his lectures. She was the one who changed his life. He wants her back in his life and in his arms. There's just one problem: she doesn't remember him.





	1. Black Holes and Revelations

Sunday, 14th February, 2021. Lincoln, NE

Valentine’s Day. How could having a day using a body organ as a symbol possibly be romantic? Maybe, St. Patrick’s Day should have a liver instead of a leprechaun for all of the drinking that does damage to said liver. Olivia smirked at her snarky thought regarding the year's most romantic holiday. As she made her way in and out of morning rush-hour traffic, she thought she could make Valentine's Day just another day on the calendar.

No such luck. It was her birthday. She was twenty-nine and feeling fine. 

Liar. She was bored. She felt part of herself was missing, leaving her with a hollow, incomplete feeling. The problem was that she didn't know why. 

In the freezing February slush of ice and rain, she found an empty parking spot in the Fenwick Library parking lot. Pulling her coat collar closer and grabbing her black and bright polka-dotted umbrella, she stepped out of her car and into the pouring rain. Tucking her favorite red scarf around her neck, she suddenly felt warmer. 

Her roommate, Rue, had given it to her as a birthday present a week early, yet, she was attached to it almost to the point of obsession. Olivia made it a point to loop it a specific way, tying it exactly as Sherlock Holmes did on the BBC television series. It soothed that empty spot in her heart that she didn't know why she had. 

That scarf seemed alive to her, sometimes, snuggling itself around her like a protective mantle of yarn armor. She knew it was a silly anthropomorphization of an inanimate object. but strangely, she found great comfort whenever she wore it. On several nights, she had cried herself to sleep without knowing why, but holding that scarf made the unexplained anguish almost bearable. 

Olivia felt the cold icy sludge pelt her face, realizing she hadn't yet opened her umbrella. The scarf was against her cheeks, wiping away the icy mix when she reached for it. She ran her gloved fingers along the large knitted pattern. 

Her day was another ordinary day. No one at the Library knew it was her birthday and she preferred it that way. Throughout the day, she helped patrons check in and out their library materials, told some noisy teenagers to straighten up or leave the library, and set up the new non-fiction display for the Library. One book caught her attention and her eyes widened at what she read on the front cover. 

"Doctor Who: More Than a Myth."

Olivia flipped the book over, reading the blurb on the back. "Does the Doctor truly exist or is he just a creature of myth? This book offers evidence that the Sainted Physician exists and intervenes in our lives, sometimes to save us and sometimes to bring destruction. Find out more about the lonely god of time and space who inspired the science fiction phenomena known as Doctor Who."

Olivia chuckled while scoffing at the blurb. Doctor Who was a television show created in the 1960s by BBC producer, Sydney Newman. Whoever had written the book had drunk too much or drank some imaginary hypervodka. She put it on the non-fiction display next to the new book, "The Whovian Encyclopedia."

As the day wore on, her mind kept going back to the book that she had dismissed with disdain. As a Whovian herself, she knew there were those in the fandom who were rabid about their favorite Doctor, whether Rose was the best or worst companion or if classic or new Who was better. She had just submitted her first script to the BBC to review under the pseudonym, Oz Noble, hoping they'd accept it and make it into an episode. 

When the last patron left the library at 7:55, Olivia finished the closing routine she did almost every night. With Fenwick Library being only a few minutes from her house, she knew she'd be home by 8:30. As she turned out the lights and went to lock the front door, she thought once more about the blue paperback that had been nagged at her all day, screaming at her, "Hey, pick me up!". 

She went over to the non-fiction display, noticing no one had touched it. She thought that odd given it was on the New York Times Bestseller List. Picking it up, she read the author's name: Christopher Noble. Turning to the back inside cover, she saw a photograph of him with short-cropped hair, high forehead, piercing blue eyes and the feature of a Roman emperor. He wore round frameless spectacles that she found charmingly old-fashioned. 

What astounded her was that he was a doppelganger for the actor who had played the Ninth Doctor, but was only in mid-thirties while said the actor was fast approaching sixty. His biography read that he was a leading pioneer in the field of temporal mechanics with PH.ds in Astrophysics and Quantum Physics from Cambridge and Harvard.

He was handsome as hell and it said he taught at The ASTRID Project-Lincoln. She also worked with a new librarian named Nora Noble who was English. Olivia wondered if there was any connection. "Just because two people are from the same country doesn't mean they know each other."

"Great, I'm talking to myself," she scoffed. Going over to the main desk she checked out the paperback and the audio version of it when she saw it was read by Dr. Noble. 

She arrived home at 8:30 and performed her usual routine. Olivia fed Bonnie her brown tabby and her Dachshund, Clyde. Partners in crime, he bayed while she meowed incessantly. The distinct thoughts of "feed me now" came off them in waves. She had stopped at the supermarket on the way home and left with some festive cupcake in honor of her birthday. 

Then, she heard the thunder roll and the lightning crack right after that. The cupcakes went flying, the lights went out and Olivia screamed. 

"Oh, lovely," she mused, looking out her front door. She saw her entire block was cloaked in darkness. "Power outage. Welcome to my birthday."

She realized that her day had turned upside down and pear-shaped. Alone in the dark on her 29th birthday with only Bonnie and Clyde for company, she refused to let herself fall into a sour funk. Lighting some large three-wick scented candles, she started reading the paperback that she had checked out from the Library. 

Her housemate, Rue, had gone somewhere for the weekend, leaving her alone. She was lonely and a little sad because she missed her flamboyant, eccentric roommate. After a few minutes, Olivia lit the fireplace, warmed some water in it on a cooking grill and made herself a hot cuppa of Earl Grey Tea. As far as she knew, tea wouldn't harm the baby. 

How in the world was she going to tell her family that she was three months pregnant, but didn't remember doing the deed to get that way? Olivia's memory was a blank from Halloween night to New Year's Eve, not a sliver of memory filled that two month period. Her neighbor, Rita, told her that she'd met Rue at the Library, had hit it off and when Rue needed a place to live, had offered her a room in exchange for sharing expenses.

She'd been to a neurologist at St. Gertrude's Hospital of the Sainted Physician who had diagnosed her with Disassociative Amnesia. She thought it rather odd that an Episcopal nun was also a neurologist. She had told the good doctor that she'd never had brain surgery, but she did have Synesthesia. The doctor gently revealed to her that she'd had brain surgery by guiding Olivia's fingers to the small scar at the base at the back of her neck where just below that indentation at the back of her skull. Olivia didn't remember ever having surgery. 

Then, she had received a call two days later from Dr. Kyle with the results of her bloodwork. When Olivia had returned to her office, she and Dr. Kyle had a surreal conversation. 

“Olivia,” Dr. Kyle had approached her with feline grace, fascinated by the neurologist’s movements when she entered the room. She was dressed in the gold and brown colors of her order and wore gloves, unique to the Sisters of the Sainted Physician. “I’m glad we could meet today.”

“Hopefully, you have some answers for me,” Olivia sighed. “So what is it, Doctor? What's wrong? “

Dr. Kyle sat in a chair beside her, giving a gentle nod and motioning Olivia to sit. She carried an electronic tablet in her gloved hands.

“So, what is it?” Olivia asked. “Brain tumor, cancer, head trauma, too much television?”

“Still cheeky, I see.” Dr. Kyle nodded. “Always one to give a glib quip in the face of adversity.”

“Sorry?” Olivia turned to look at the other woman. “Come again?”

“You may not remember, Olivia, but I saw you several months ago for your Synesthesia,” Dr. Kyle coughed. “I’ve seen you before as a patient.”

“You have? When?” Olivia’s jaw hung slack.

“Shortly after Halloween,” the doctor explained. “You experienced a Chiari Malformation due to a traumatic brain injury.”

“And what is that?”

“Your brain decided to drop through the hole in your skull into your spinal column,” Dr. Kyle explained. “Due to the swelling of your brain, you had emergency surgery to relieve the pressure of your cranium against sensitive tissue.”

“So, traumatic brain injury, my brains falling out of my skull and you cut a hole in it to relieve the pressure,” Olivia listed everything she counted each point on her fingers. “Lovely. Let me guess, I tripped over my shoelaces, right? Mother Rita said I turn klutziness into an Olympic sport.”

“No,” Dr. Kyle gave her a small smile.

“Are you sure you know who you’re talking to?” Olivia scoffed, snorting softly. “Not exactly known for my acrobatic feats and graceful maneuvering, Doc. I trip on the cair."

Dr. Kyle's subtle London accent had a calming effect on Olivia, mesmerizing her. “You’re from London, South London, by the accent, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Dr. Kyle paused, her green eyes wide. “Very astute.”

“Why do I keep thinking you’re from Savannah?” Olivia asked, the nagging intuition of a memory just-out-of reach that seemed buried and buried again. 

“I’m just amazed that you remember our conversation about where I’m from,” the doctor rose from her chair, quickly turning away to grab an x-ray and post it the lit panel behind her. “I'm from Savannah, just a few kilometers northwest of London. I practiced there before taking my vows. Maybe, your memories are starting to return.”

Why did the doctor act that day like she was a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs? Olivia mused at the abrupt change in the neurologist's behavior.

“After reviewing all of the test results accumulated over the past week, I know there’s nothing physically wrong with you. There are no complications resulting from your surgery. Your brain has completely healed.”

“Then why is there another lobe at the base of my skull?” Olivia pointed to the small lump above her spine on the x-ray. “Do I have an extra brain?”

“No,” Dr. Kyle laughed, coughing again. “You’re in excellent health.”

“Then, what’s wrong with me?” Olivia willed herself to keep her voice neutral and not to ball her fists in frustration. “Why can’t I remember those missing two months?”

“From what you’ve shared with staff this week, I’ve concluded your amnesia comes from multiple environmental factors: stress, psychological trauma. We've already had that discussion. Today, you're here because I wanted to share with you about what we found in your bloodwork."

“And that’s good, how?” Olivia motioned for the doctor to elaborate. 

“I think it’ll be good for you in your recovery. It has to do with what showed up."

"Don't keep me in suspense, just give me the diagnosis?” Olivia eyed the doctor. “Do I have a disease? Leukemia? Am I the victim of alien abduction?”

The doctor stared at her, blinking several times in silence, then answered. “You always catch me off-guard with your deadpan humor, Olivia. No, none of those, unless you’ve spoken to some Martians lately.”

Olivia grinned. 

“That’s what I wanted to see,” Dr. Kyle grinned back. “Humor is a great diffuser of stress. This isn’t anything bad. It’s something that will change your life depending on how you wish to move forward. In your blood tests, there were high levels of hCG.”

“hCG?” Olivia asked, cocking her head. “What’s hCG?”

“Human Chorionic Gonadotropin,” Dr. Kyle explained. “It’s a hormone that shows in specific testing. Your blood test results show high levels of it. Olivia, congratulations. You’re pregnant.”

“I’m what?” The exam room turned sideways and everything turned white.

What Olivia didn't hear or see was Dr. Kyle talking to the receptionist, a red-headed woman sitting behind the front desk in the reception area. "Donna, please call the Doctor and tell him that Olivia only fainted this time."


	2. Meeting for the First Time Again

Olivia spent several hours after work reading Christopher Noble's bestseller. When her vision started blurring, she noticed it was two o'clock in the morning, ruing the consequences of staying up too late to read a book that was more science fiction than fact. Rubbing her eyes, she found a bookmark and placed it carefully inside the book. She leaned over and turned off the Tiffany lamp on the side table.

Dr. Noble’s book examined the legends of the Doctor through history, examining the documentation of the Sainted Physician’s appearances by many cultures in the world. As the scent of the candle filled the living room, Olivia remembered how the aroma reminded her of a dream that was just beyond the edges of her memory. Cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, pink pepper and cloves with a hint of smoke lilted to the air. A shiver of passion started in her womb, causing contractions that made Olivia gasp.

She quickly shook off those far-too-dangerous tingling sensations, focusing her thoughts on Dr. Noble’s book. Lying in the dark staring up at the ceiling, Olivia pondered how close to home the Doctor’s theories of the Sainted Physician truly were. In fact, the hospital where Dr. Kyle worked was named St. Gertrude’s Episcopal Hospital of the Sainted Physician. Recalling what she read, Olivia remembered that St. Gertrude had been a sister at a nunnery when a man fell from the stars in a blue box.

Olivia pondered the connection, wondering why she hadn’t noticed it. The legend said that in the 19th century, the saint in the blue box saved a nunnery in a nearby town from a demon. The fiend had plummeted to earth, afflicting the local population with a deadly plague. The Sainted Physician defeated the evil demon, healed many of the ill and injured with his blessed wand of sound and light, then disappeared in his blue box.

"Small world," she murmured. She took a small sip of her tea and turned the page, excited to read more. The next words leaped off the page. “I wonder if he’s visited Loch Ness or hung with Big Foot lately.”

Dr. Noble had written, "If we take “The Doctor” to be the Doctor’s name – even if it is in the form of a title no doubt meaning something deep and alien – perhaps our earthly use of the word “doctor” meaning healer or wise man is direct result of the Doctor’s multiple interventions in our history as a healer and wise person. He either invented the word or gave it as a gift to Humanity. Maybe, the word "doctor" isn't from Earth, but from a place far away and distant in the history of time."

Olivia shook her head, skeptical of how anyone could think of the Doctor akin to a deity. He was a lonely, broken man from Gallifrey known for picking up companions who made him better. They always broke his hearts when they left for someone else or they turned to dust. He loved them far more than any loved him or her.

Olivia wondered how anyone couldn’t see that? He was either a long-lived being or the title “Doctor” was passed from one person to the next, male and female. That and his continued solitude affected his mental wellness. He wasn't a mad man in a blue box, he was alone in the universe without loving someone or being loved. All the ancient legends compiled by Doctor Noble and the ones that were the television show’s foundation iterated that the Doctor was a heartbroken man haunted by guilt who never knew redemption or forgiveness, thinking himself unworthy of love or absolution. 

Olivia shook her head at the massive amount of idiots who thought of believed he existed. He was a television show character and anything else was insane. She wanted to know more about the legends and Christopher Noble’s background. His prose and intensity of conviction made her curiosity burn.

At the bottom of the biography was the Doctor's official website address. Intrigued, Olivia browsed the internet on her phone until she found it. The website listed several engagements on his schedule, including a dinner lecture at Haydn Observatory. At $80.00 for dinner and a lecture, it sounded like it was her particular kind of fun. If she were willing, she could pay $125.00 for a front-row table and a VIP swag package. 

A mild rush of glee moved through her as she bought her ticket online for the dinner lecture. Olivia decided to take a risk and invite a work friend. She thought Nora would appreciate the intellectual aspects of the lecture and Olivia admitted that she didn’t want to attend the event alone. 

She already had a life and she wanted to start living it. Olivia couldn’t wait to meet new people, make new friends and visit new places. So, she crossed her fingers, hoping that Nora would go with her. She promised herself that she was going to have a phenomenal year. 

DWDWDWDWDWDWDW

Monday morning came far too soon. Olivia’s phone alarm obnoxiously blared some happy feel-good song that made her want to grab the phone and throw it against the wall. Rising off the sofa, she shuffled to the kitchen. She reached for her kombucha in the fridge, what she called liquid ambition. Olivia grumbled as she went through her daily routine of getting ready for work.

During lunch, she sat at a small table in the library break room, eating her plant-based protein and vegan cheese. Damn, how she wanted a cheeseburger deluxe. 

“Oh, what’s in the bag and why are you hiding it? Nora sniffed, and her face screwed into the grimace. “What is that bloody awful smell?”

“Because it’s supposed to be my lunch, but it’s more like cruel and unusual punishment,” Olivia chuckled, appreciating Nora’s reaction to the scent of tasty plant-based protein. “It’s hickory-smoked.”

“Oh, what a tragic thing to say,” Nora stared sadly at the poor wretched item called a sandwich. Her nose crinkled in disgust. “That is not real food.”

Olivia walked over to the trash can, held the sandwich over it and made the sign of the cross. “It deserves a proper burial, don’t you think?”

“Indeed,” Nora agreed, giving a solemn nod as Olivia ceremoniously dropped the bag into the trash can. “How is vegetarianism working for you?”

“It’s not,” Olivia shook her head. “My inner rabbit is about to rage.”

“Then, what the point of it, then?” Nora motioned toward the trash can. 

“Trying to be healthy.”

“Healthy is eating good English cuisine,” Nora grinned. “Let me take you to the Rose and Crown, an honest-to-goodness pub with the best fish and chips, bangers and mash you could hope for.”

“I feel my cholesterol climbing now,” Olivia shot her friend a skeptical glance. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you? Death by artery-clogging.”

“You really like your dark humor, don’t you?” 

“Well, I’ve been one to always look on the brighter side of death,” Olivia gave her a cheesy grin and two thumbs up.

“Were you always this morbid?” Nora asked.

“No,” Olivia chimed, giving her the biggest grin possible. “I used to be worse.”

“Oi!”

“Trust me, once you have seen death once or twice, it just becomes a part of life,” Olivia mused with a shrug. “I slept in a chair by my mother’s bedside at the hospital for two or three nights. She had those death rattles,” 

Olivia paused, blinking several times to banish the tears that burned the backs of her eyelids. 

Nora’s sassy demeanor melted immediately, leaving concern in its wake. Large brown eyes stared at Olivia, nodding briefly as she covered Olivia’s hand with her own. “It’s all right, go on.”

“I shouldn’t have started in the first place,” Olivia looked away, grabbing a nearby napkin, loudly blowing her nose. “That’s one thing that I envy about the English: stoic persona and a stiff upper lip. It’s not like I’m the first person ever to have lost a loved one.”

“That doesn’t make your grief any less real,” Nora said in a soft voice, rubbing soothing circles on Olivia’s back. “We may all have lost someone we love, but that doesn’t make the pain easier to bear.”

“Nora, I didn’t mean to get emotional,” Olivia straightened her glasses. “I have whined, now, I want cheese.”

“Stop,” Nora’s Northern accent was thick and urgent with that one letter. “Stop trying to silly your way out of it. I never see you this open about anything. Talk to me.”

Olivia rapidly shook her head. “I’ve already talked too much. Don’t worry, I’m fine. I’m always fine. I’m over it now, but a momentary rush of hormones.”

“Finish what you were saying for me,” Nora’s voice was low and quiet. “Please.”

Nora’s brown eyes met Olivia’s darker ones. Nora had a magical way of pushing Olivia beyond her comfort zone, past her safe self-imposed boundaries. In many ways, Nora Noble was a doppelganger of the actress who played Clara Oswin Oswald and Clara personified right down to the reckless attitude and the excellent fashion sense. Quick-minded and silver-tongued, the woman had a way of persuading Olivia to break all of her rules. 

“On the third day, I left for an hour, just an hour,” Olivia began, her voice no more than a whisper. “I went home to take a bath, just to freshen up. While in the bath, I received a call from the hospital. My mother had died only moments after I left. My dad died 9 days later. The Doctor said congestive heart failure, but it was from a broken heart. Nora, they weren’t even sixty.”

“You’re not alone anymore,” Nora stroked back a stray tendril of curly black hair, tucking it behind Olivia’s ear. “You have me.”

“I appreciate your friendship more than you know, Nora.” Olivia gave a little smile. “People don’t reach out to me and I’m fine with my own company. Most people just don’t understand that I’m, well, different.”

“You’re not different, you’re shy. There’s a difference.”

“I never used to be,” Olivia shrugged. “I feel like in the past few months that I’ve become a different person. I used to be so outgoing and now, I’m a shadow. I’m fading away, Nora. I don’t think there is really any of me left.”

“Oh, Ollie,” Nora gave her a gentle bump with her shoulder. “Times change and we must change with them. You’ve grown and changed throughout your life as you’ve experienced and learned new things. If you quit experiencing, quit living then you’re not alive. Olivia, you’re not fading and you’re not a shadow. It’s all right to remember who you were, but embrace who you’re becoming and choose who you want to be. Guide your life, but don’t surrender it to fate. Never forget who you were, who you are and who you want to be.”

“You are way too chipper to be English,” Olivia commented, reaching for her bottle of water out of her lunch bag.

“What about your brother, Von?” Nora asked. “When is the last time you connected with him?”

“It’s been a while,” Olivia kept her eyes focused on the lid as she slowly opened it. “You know Von, he’s moving on up. He graduated from Stanford, finished his Rhodes Scholarship at Oxford and is on his second tour of duty in Iraq. He doesn’t have time to talk with big sister.”

Olivia sipped her water. “How did we get on this tangent, anyway?”

“Looking on the brighter side of death, I guess,” Nora gave her hand a pat.

“I am walking hormonal upset on legs,” Olivia shook her head. “I’m not even showing yet and I’m an emotional mess.”

“It is what it is,” Nora didn’t like seeing the young human said. It made her hearts clench in pain.

“Hey, since I made a New Year’s resolution, I’m thinking about attending a lecture at the Hayden Observatory. Dinner included. Want to go?”

“Sure,” Nora smiled, steepling her hands and resting her chin on them. “What is so interesting about Dr. Christopher Noble?”

“Well, I’m intrigued. What happened, Nora? Before my memory loss, Doctor Who was just another BBC program. I wake up New Year’s Day with two months of my life missing and he’s the hottest thing since the Beatles. It's like I’m living in a parallel universe and I’m the only one who is sane.”

“I know what that feels like,” Nora nodded, then rose from her chair and grabbed a mug from the break room cupboard. 

“I want to know what all of the hype is about,” Olivia shrugged. “I want to know why so many people are fascinated with the Sainted Physician.”

Nora filled her mug with water, put it in the microwave and turned the dial. “In fact, I think this is the first time we’ve done something other than board games or binge-watching Netflix.”

“Well, while you like to skydive and bungee jump, I take the slow path and I’ll watch the occasional documentary.” 

DWDWDWDWDW

At six o’clock, Nora pulled into Olivia’s driveway in her blue and white BMC Mini Cooper. She heard Nora stomping up the steps, imagining her shaking the snow off of her shoes. Opening the door, she saw her friend dressed in a long cashmere sweater, black leggings and black boots.

Olivia felt wasn’t showing yet at seven weeks, but she knew she didn’t look sleek and sophisticated like her petite, leggy friend. With large brown eyes and curves, Nora caught everyone’s attention. At 5’1”, Nora just came to Olivia’s chin. At 5’7”, Olivia often joked about using her as a chin rest. 

Olivia didn’t do sexy, she did practical. She chose a long gray turtleneck with black jeans and black boots so she wouldn’t land on her backside. She had a talent for tripping on air and didn’t want to have any accidents during her pregnancy. Wrapping her favorite red scarf around her neck, she grabbed her favorite black wrap from the hall tree by the front door. 

Her favorite accessory was her blue pocket watch pendant. She didn’t remember where she’d bought it, but it held great sentimental value. In circular Gallifreyan, the front of the pocket watch read, “Laugh hard. Run fast. Be kind.” On the back, she knew it read, “Love is a promise we make.”

It was the word inscribed on the interior that she had never heard anyone speak, but she knew it sounded lyrical to her ears, “Re’Hallion.” The closest she had ever found on any wiki or website was that it was Old High Gallifreyan for “Beloved, Darling, My Love.” Long before passion had been torn out of the Time Lords by Rassilon.”

The blue watch pendant was one of Olivia’s prized possessions and it seemed fitting to wear it to a lecture about Doctor Who. Being the shameless geek she was, she had taught herself Gallifreyan back in her college days, even taking her class notes in the language just to better understand it. Her roommate had been a Trekkie, so she’d taught her Gallifreyan while her roommate taught her Klingon. Olivia had considered it a fair trade. 

She heard a knock on the door and she tied her scarf, ready and looking for a night of adventure. She opened the door and saw Nora impatiently tapping her foot. “Stargazing again, Olivia?”

“No, of course not!” she denied, crossing her fingers behind her back. “Well, c’mon, Allon-sy!”

Nora rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “Way too much like Ten.”

DWDWDWDWDW

Olivia insisted they arrive at Hayden Observatory one hour early. Nora said she was being too much of a worrier. “I’ve already spoken to his staff. We have a front table.”

“Wow, I’m impressed,” Olivia smiled in admiration shaking her head. “Front row tables at the dinner were $125.00. I bought two tickets for the cheap seats.”

“It’s a belated birthday gift,” Nora motioned to the table covered in a deep cranberry linen table cloth with cranberry linen napkins folded into an artful stand-up design. Next to it was a blue box tied with a silver ribbon. “It’s not every day that you turn twenty-nine, so I wanted to get you a little something.”

“You didn’t need to do any of this,” Olivia’s eyes widened slightly. 

“This is what friends do,” Nora sat down. “we laugh, we cry, grieve and celebrate.”

“I don’t know what to say," Olivia felt the air stolen from her lungs. A slow smile crossed her full lips. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

DWDWDWDWDW

After the Doctor completed the lecture, Olivia did the appropriate thing to support the author and bought a hardback copy of his book. She noticed the vast majority of the attendees were women ranging from college age to well into middle age. She was glad that she wore flat boots because she knew a long wait in line was hellish in heels. Yet, Nora did it like she was born wearing stilettos. 

Ninety minutes later, she and Nora finally stood in front of the author’s table. 

“Nora, blimey!” The Doctor rose out of his chair, reaching over the table to hug his little sister. “I thought you found my lectures more boring than dry toast.”

“I do,” she cast him a skeptical glance. She turned to the Librarian behind her. “but, she doesn’t Chris, this is her.”

“Your Plus One?”

“One of my best mates this side of the pond,” Nora replied. 

Olivia inwardly beamed but felt more comfortable playing with the tassels of her red scarf.

“We met at work,” Nora explained. “Bit of shy one, this one.”

“Nora,” Olivia growled in a low warning tone. “Please, don’t.”

“Hi, I’m Chris Noble,” she heard that Northern Burr ripple through her and it made her shiver the same way the same night when she had read his book. Olivia bit her lip to stifle a sigh. He looked and sounded like the Ninth Doctor right down to stormy blue eyes and timbre of his voice. 

Olivia studied Nora's brother, giving him close scrutiny. He looked every bit the good soldier with his combat boots, burgundy vee-neck sweater and closely-shorn hair. He had a high brow, aquiline nose and cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass. Olivia looked into his grayish-blue eyes that reminded her of dark storm clouds. She didn't try hiding her smile when she distressed black leather coat tossed over the back of a chair behind the author’s table. It wasn’t a U-Boat captain’s coat, but it was a similar style. It was obvious that Chris Noble was a doppelganger of the actor who played the Ninth Doctor, but she had trouble processing the fact.

She looked down at his extended hand, seeing it was large and callused. His hands were covered in light, short scars resulting from working on engines or a TARDIS. Olivia gawked at Nora's brother for several seconds, unable to blink.

Olivia felt a hand gently shaking her shoulder. "Ollie, are you all right? Ollie?"

Olivia stared at Chris Noble, cocking her head to the side in confusion. Looking at him, she closed her eyes and hear four rapid heartbeats. She processed his introduction, how he pronounced his vowels and consonants. Her eyes widened as disbelief washed over her. 

“Olivia Brasseaux. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I truly enjoyed your book."

“Pleasure is mine,” Chris’ voice dropped an octave. "Nora has told me a lot about you." 

"Do I get a chance to defend myself?" Olivia didn't want to stand there gaping at Chris Noble as if he had a third eye in the middle of his forehead.

Olivia felt the coolness of his skin against hers, almost icy to the touch and she inhaled those same spices that she had smelled the previous night.

The first notes that she recognized were hints of pepper followed by the fiery richness of tobacco and tanned leather. The sweet flavor of saffron touched her taste buds along with light, sweet flavors of cherry and almond. She inhaled slowly, recognizing each layer of aroma as breathed in the masculine spice. She tasted the sweet lemon zest of bergamot, the rosy undercurrent pink pepper, notes of cinnamon, vetiver which reminded her of lemongrass and red pepper. Olivia thought she caught a whiff of pine, but she was entranced. 

Olivia felt a sharp twinge along the inside of her wrist. Jerking her hand out of Chris's grasp, she cradled it in her other hand. Looking down at her wrist, she saw a thin red line run straight across it. "What the Hell?"

“Olivia,” a distant voice called to her, unfamiliar and male. “Olivia, are you all right?”

“Huh?” she shook her head, tamping down on the mind drift. “I'm okay, but I think your brother shocked me.” 

"Shocked you?" Chris shook his head, not understanding. 

"You have an electric personality," Olivia held out her wrist. "You've effectively branded me."

Chis took her hand in his, carefully examining where the red line marked her wrist. The mark, red and swollen, looked similar to a new tattoo. "Probably a nasty bout of static electricity."

Then, Olivia saw that he had a matching red mark on his wrist, but the mark ran through several concentric linked circles. She looked at the mark, leaning closer to study it before looking up at Chris. "Who knows? By the way, I love your tattoo. You really must be a Whovian to get one in Low Circular Gallifreyan."

“Are you okay?” Nora asked quietly. 

Olivia quickly removed her hand from Chris’s grasp and nodded slowly. “Peachy with a side of keen considering I just got electrocuted.”

“Oi!” Chris replied. He looked at Nora, tapping the side of his nose and she nodded silently. 

“Hey, it's not every day that I see a tattoo in Low Circular Gallifreyan,” Olivia gave Chris her best smile. “You must really be a fan if you have a tattoo. You're braver than I am.”

"And I bet she can translate it, too," Nora's eyes sparkled as her grin grew bigger. "Okay, Brain Girl, what does his tattoo say?"

"Nora, I'm a Librarian, not a Time Lord," Olivia scoffed. "There are about three or four different versions of Circular Gallifreyan floating around designed by fans and a version or two that are of unknown origin. How am I supposed to know?

"Oh, c'mon, Ollie! Give it a go," Nora encouraged her. "What does it say?"

"Don't be putting her on the spot-" Chris started. 

"Always," Olivia answered. "It says, 'always.'"

"Where did you learn to ready Circular Gallifreyan?" he asked. 

"My roommate was a Trekkie and I'm a Whovian," Olivia shrugged. "To pass the time when we were too broke to go see a movie and we needed cheap entertainment, she'd teach me Klingon and I'd teach her Gallifreyan. She could recite Shakespeare and I started an Old Testament translation in Gallifreyan because it beat watching the crap on TV in the Residence Hall Lounge."

"I can't wait to see what you're like when you're serious about researching something," Chris said with a bit of awe in his voice.

"Oh," Olivia winked. "You've no idea."

Olivia shook her head as Chris suddenly turned into two of him. Queasiness followed and then lightheadedness made her lose her balance and stumble. 

"Ollie, what's wrong?"

Nora grabbed her shoulders to steady her.

"Suddenly, I don't feel so well," Olivia murmured, hot flashes coming in alternating waves. "I think I need to sit down. Hot flashes and I don't mix." 

Her feet crumble beneath her. Before she hit the ground, two strong arms scooped her up bridal style. "Don't you worry none. Best Doctor in the house, me. Let's get you sat down.

“Ollie is seven weeks pregnant and she gets hot spells from time to time.” she explained. Nora returned her attention to Olivia, steadying her by wrapping an arm around her waist. “Easy now. Just sit. “

Chris poured a glass of water and set it on the table. “Here, drink this.”

Olivia gave a wave of her hand. “I’m fine, just lightheaded. No big thing. I’m just not getting enough electrolytes.”

"You need to eat more bananas," Chris chimed.

Olivia rose to her feet when she felt two large hands gently push her back into the chair. “Good source of potassium and let me guess. I bet you don’t like pears.”

“Hate them,” he gave her a goofy grin, kneeling down in front of her. “May I see your hand?”

“I’d rather not,” she folded them firmly in her lap. “I’m not really the touchy-feely type of person.”

“I give a great hand massage,” he beamed another silly smile at her. 

“You do not want to know how that sounded just now,” Olivia had a hard time not laughing. 

“Oi!” he looked at her in shock. “Innocent as the driven snow, me.”

"Before or after someone drove through it,” she smirked. Olivia wanted to know more about Nora’s older brother. He was handsome, thoughtful and a bit playful. He was also an unabashed flirt. 

"You're a feisty one. You've got a bit of a gob on you." 

“I'm awesome like that,” she assured him and Nora. “I think it's best if I go home. My body tells me when enough is enough. It’s been a late night and I'm about to turn into a pumpkin.”

“It’s not even ten o'clock,” Nora looked at her watch. 

“All fun and no sleep makes for a grumpy librarian,” Olivia reminded her friend. 

“You didn’t open your gift,” Chris nodded toward the table. Reaching past her, he grabbed the box and held it out to her. “Happy Birthday, Olivia Brasseaux.”

Her brows furrowed in question, silent questioning. She had forgotten about the lovely blue box with the silver ribbon sitting on the table. Holding it in his large hands, Chris held it in front of her. She put her hands on the box, her fingers brushing his. "How did you know?"

A thousand pictures flashed through her mind. Olivia saw a man with blue-green eyes, wavy black hair in a Belstaff coat who used a sonic screwdriver to clear her driveway of snow. She saw deep brown eyes gazing into hers. She remembered bright green eyes alight with enthusiasm belonging to a young man dressed in a blue waistcoat and frock coat. She saw light blue eyes looking at her, still holding the box. 

“Like I said, Nora said great things about you,” he nodded at the box. "Open it."

“Okay.” Olivia slowly lifted the lid off the box, feeling gleeful anticipation bubbling inside here. Inside was a silver key on a long, slender silver chain and a copy of his book. 

“The book is from Nora and the key is from me,” Chris explained as Olivia lifted the key out of the box. It gleamed in the light as it swayed on the chain. 

She held it up to see it better, examining the key. The shape and feel were familiar. Olivia had seen them at conventions and had never bought one, but it looked different than the others she had seen. She felt the metal vibrate and it felt warm to her hand, almost alive. “This is a Tardis key. Ninth Doctor design. It's beautiful.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Is it . . .” she heard a familiar sound. Holding the key to her ear, she gasped. “humming?”

“Might be,” he whispered. 

Olivia felt the key’s warmth thrum in time with the line throbbing on her wrist. Then, she slowly removed the book from the box. Opening the inside cover, she saw Chris’ signature written boldly in black marker. 

“Nora said she wanted a copy of my book for a friend, but she didn't tell me it was you. She said it was for a friend. Taking the book from her, he pulled out the marker and wrote in it. Handing it back to her, Olivia read the words written. “Olivia, I'm so glad that I've met you. Always, Christopher. Always love and always hope.”

As the Doctor knelt in front of her, he watched her with a growing intensity he didn’t see. She didn’t see him inhaling in her scent, filling his senses with eyes closed. Had she glanced at his hands, she would have seen the edges of similar markings like hers, fresh and swollen on his inner wrist. If Olivia had looked down, she would’ve seen the concentric circles forming on her wrist glowing eerily with hints of red, green and blue. 

“Such beautiful words,” she murmured. Then, a hot metallic taste filled her mouth. “Bathroom. Quick. I’m going to be sick.”

“This way,” Chris took her by the hand, leading her to the Ladies’ Room. Olivia had barely rushed to the door and fell to her knees in front of one of the toilets when that night’s dinner came back to haunt her. She felt cool, callused hands hold back her long black fishtail braid. 

Ten minutes and several eruptions later, she rested her flushed cheek against the cool metal of the bathroom stall. Chris helped Olivia to her feet and walked slowly to the sink. She turned on the tap, taking a handful of cool water into her mouth and swishing it around to get rid of the sour taste left on her tongue. 

“Easy,” Nora scolded her. “Don’t drink too much too quickly.”

She shooed them away, telling them to wait outside and that she’d join them shortly. Looking at her flushed reflection, she thought herself a sight with streaks of mascara and eyeliner running down her cheeks. Olivia set to work wiping away the streaks, reapplying some concealer and powder and touching up her lipstick. 

Knowing her breath smelled dreadful, she popped into her mouth the after-dinner mint that she’d saved from that night’s meal. Putting on her best smile, she straightened her sweater, slathered hand sanitizer on her hands and walked out of the bathroom with head held high. There, she saw Nora and Chris hovering outside the Ladies’ Room entrance.

“How do you feel?” Nora asked, making no attempt to hide her concern. 

Olivia’s sarcasm was followed by two thumbs up. “Fantastic, absolutely fantastic.”

She saw Nora turn, her eyes gleaming with anger as she spoke to Chris in a language that sounded vaguely familiar, certainly not English? Gaelic? 

“Thanks for your help, both of you,” Olivia glanced at the siblings. “I probably need to slow down my much too exciting life. Time for me to head home.”

“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” Christopher pointed to the chair. “Don’t go wandering off. Sit.”

“I'm not exacting running at top capacity,” Olivia admitted. “I’m pregnant, not drunk. I’m quite fine to drive.”

“I have a better idea,” Chris said with a goofy smile on his face. “Let Nora drive you home and I’ll follow behind and then take her home. You need to rest.”

“I’m fine.” Olivia was tired and wanted to go home. “I can make it home just fine. If you want to catch a ride with Chris, I understand.”

“I’ll do no such thing,” Nora quickly grabbed the keys out of Olivia’s hand. “You need to rest and I’ll do the driving.”

“Hello, are you the one making the payments on my SUV?” Olivia stood akimbo, looming over Nora. “Unless you’re God or sign my paycheck, you don’t get the right to be my boss.”

“Sit, both of you and quit your arguing,” Chris commanded. Nora defiantly remained standing while Olivia swayed a little on her feet, trying to ignore the queasiness in her stomach.

Olivia snapped. “Is your entire family full of control freaks?”

“Yes,” the siblings said in unison, glancing at one another.

She snatched the keys out of Nora’s hand and headed for the door. “Chris, I enjoyed your book and your lecture. Nora, I’ll see you tomorrow at work. I’ll leave you two to get over yourselves. Good night.”

She left the Observatory without a backward glance.

“Olivia,” Chris called after her, running to catch up with her. “Wait.”

She saw Nora right behind him. She looked at them, wondering what had transpired. He inhaled deeply and slowly. His gaze was intense, full of an emotion she couldn’t name. Chris’s blue eyes gleamed in the moonlight, suspiciously bright. “Olivia, I’m sorry, so, so sorry. Nora and I forget that we can’t be to other people the way we are to each other. She wants you to be safe and I don’t want to be an arse. We don’t want you to get upset because it will put stress on you and the baby. Would you let me drive you home?” 

His remorse was palpable. The smell of regret permeated the air, thick and sweet between them, reminding Olivia of Hyacinths. Black fumes wafted around him, smelling of earth and rain. He hid his worry behind a wall of anger; broken, lonely anger. Loss. Heartbreak. Olivia shook her head to dispel the onslaught of synesthesia taking over her senses.

Olivia looked at him for a long moment. There was a connection between them and she felt it. From the moment that Nora introduced them to when their fingers brushed, she knew Christopher Noble was intriguing. Yet, she just read him better than she had read anyone in months. He had a sarcastic sense of humor and Olivia loved it. She decided she wanted to get to know Chris Noble much better. He was a risk worth taking.. 

“I know both of you mean well,” Olivia chose her words carefully. “However, I am in charge of my own life and answer to no one but God and the IRS. Yes, I'd love a ride home as long as Nora doesn't wreck my SUV.”

The siblings chuckled at her unexpected dash of humor, but the message was well received. Don’t mess with a pregnant Librarian.

“Fantastic! Noted and point taken. ” Chris conceded. “I’d like to get to know you better if you’ll let me. Fresh start? Anyone who can inspire my sister’s protective streak is worth getting to know.” 

Olivia’s brows rose in silent question when she looked over Chris’ shoulder at Nora. In return, Nora mouthed the words, “HE LIKES YOU. GO WITH IT.”

Chris looked right at Nora. "Shush, you." 

“I’m stubborn, but not stupid. I know you had only the best intentions at heart regarding my welfare. Let’s start over?”

"Fine by me," Chris beamed. 

Olivia placed her smaller hand in his, feeling the callus rub against her palm. This time, his grasp was cool and refreshing. This time, she experienced a burst of excitement coming from him, half disbelief and the other half delight. Nora knew she was perfectly fine, but was pushing the safety factor with her shrewd planning. “Chris, I truly enjoyed your book. It was articulate and well-researched.”

“Thank you,” Chris replied. Even though it was night, Olivia thought she saw the tips of his ears turn red. “I’m glad that you enjoyed it.”

“Thank you,” she gave him a small smile. “I appreciate the ride. I know your time is important.”

“Please, take up my time!” Chris’ enthusiasm was obvious. Olivia fought to keep a straight face as Nora stood behind her brother, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. 

“Excuse me?”

“I mean, I’m glad that we could get a second chance to get things right,” Chris explained. "Nice meeting you for the first time again." 

He glanced over his shoulder at his sister and mouthed the words, “Thank you."

To Be Continued . . .


	3. I Just Haven't Met You Yet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time Lords are the most ancient, advanced civilization in the universe with a billion years of greatness to show for it except for just one thing: A particular Time Lord has no idea how to court a shy Librarian. Thank Rassilon that DoctorDonna is in the house.

Early Saturday Morning on 21st February, 2021.

Dream On.

Olivia didn’t need to be conscious to know that she was aboard the TARDIS. Caught between the worlds of wakefulness and dreams, she tried engaging the healing coma that Jules had told her about before he died. She couldn’t reach out to him because she needed every bit of her regenerative energy to heal for the sake of their unborn child. She felt the darkness coming, seeping into her mind as heat left her body. She had died before and had seen her parents, but this time she had a reason to stay. Her child needed to live. 

She remembered how the winds of the void howled, pulling her husband from her into the darkness as death tried to claim him. Since when was the veil between death and life like being in outer space? She wrapped her thoughts around him, a barrage of wind and fire, will and time, barraging the void with her light and life to keep it at bay. The Doctor’s grip on life slipping, ebbing away, as death crept upon them. She saw the Nothing as she held Jules fast, refusing to let him go. 

“You have to let me go, Re’Hallion,” he whispered in her ear, his voice audible above the roaring winds. “You have to live for both of us now.”

“No,” she screamed, shaking her head with adamant denial. “You are not going to die on me, Jules. No!”

“You’ll die if you don’t let me go.”

“Then, wherever we go, we go together,” Tears streamed down her face. “I’ve died more than once, you know. It’s not supposed to be this way. There isn’t a howling or a void. There is always someone waiting for me on the other side.”

“Olivia,” he cupped her cheek as her hold tightened around the Doctor. “Oh, my Olivia! No one can help me. A fixed point has been established. The aperture between the universes is closing. There is no one on the other side waiting for me. I always knew that I would die alone. Our bond is disintegrating. You have to let go.”

“Then, we go together,” she wept, pressing her brow to his. “We’ve got this.”

“She’s going into dual cardiac arrest,” a voice yelled. It was a distant voice that had a distinctive Northern lilt to it. 

“My Darling Girl,” Jules pressed a kiss to her brow. “Listen to me, please. There’s not much time. I love you. I. Will. Always. Love. You. You have to live. Not just for me or for you, but for our child.”

Olivia sobbed, tears falling freely down her face.

“Tell Ian thank you for the time he stole for us. I am forever in his debt and I remember everything. All the times his heart broke and all of the joys I remember having more time with you.”

“You said our love would last eons,” she whispered. “You promised.”

“And it will, Luv,” he kissed her nose. “Know that I am better for loving you and you were worth the wait. Two thousand years I waited and it was worth everything. You have to take care of them now: our child, Rue and the Tardis. They need you. Be there for them, for me. Promise.”

Olivia felt her grip loosen slightly as the pull of the void became stronger. “Let them love you. Olivia, and love them in return. Take care of each other. Be brave. Live. Love enough for the both of us, My Darling Girl, my Re’Hallion. I love you.”

Olivia felt the break, the snap, the pain of Jules being ripped from her mind. She screamed as she reached to him, willing her body to follow, but something held her in place. "Let me go! I have to go with him.”

“No,” a firm voice stated. She looked over her shoulder to see her mother holding her back. “It isn’t your time.”

Olivia reached out, watching as her mate disappeared into the void. She saw a brilliant flash of light and the strong presence of a dark-haired man blocking the Doctor's path. She saw him catch the Doctor before he vanished from sight. Looking over the other man’s shoulder, the Doctor gave her a sad smile before they vanished. Olivia threw her head back and wailed, the mourning cry of a banshee as it broke the barriers of time and space. “Your father caught him, Olivia.”

Olivia looked wide-eyed at the hazel-eyed young woman with coal-black hair. She couldn’t have been more than thirty, but Olivia stared back at that familiar face that mirrored her own. “Mom?”

“Yes, getting your butt out of trouble, again,” giving her a knowing smile. “Now, let go. Live much, love much, laugh much. You promised him. Don't worry, we've got this. I have a message from him,” her mother smiled. “The Doctor said you’d know what he meant.”

“Message?” Olivia wept, her eyes wild with confusion. “What?”

“I will find you, but not with this daft face,"

Olivia awoke with a start. The last face she saw was Christopher Noble as he worked furiously to get her hearts beating again. “That is the last time I eat Macaroni with barbecue sauce. Too many weird dreams.”

Christopher Noble. He had been in a lot of her dreams lately. Sitting in bed, she fingered the unusually warm key that dangled from her neck on a delicate silver chain. She heard her phone give notification of a text. It'd only been two nights since Chris had driven her home, but they'd been texting back and forth, just making small talk. Looking at his latest text, it inspired a smile and a happy sigh. 

“Olivia, I’d love to see you again, Darling Girl. Would you like to get together for a cuppa?” Olivia heard the words murmured in his voice as if he were standing behind her, whispering them in a low voice in her ear. 

Olivia pursed her lips in contemplation. She had been taken by him the moment she first saw his book and that sentiment had grown after meeting him. She took a deep breath to gather her courage and reached for her phone before she came to her senses and changed her mind. It was Saturday morning and at half-past eight a.m. She dialed the number, always preferring the direct approach.

DWDWDWDWDWDWDW

Olivia let go. She sank into the sweet, welcoming blackness of dreams. Odd, fantastic ones, filled her mind as she lay in the med bay of the TARDIS. The Doctor in Leather piloted the brokenhearted TARDIS through the last small sliver of aperture before it closed. He had seen and felt it all, every nuance of Eighteenth Doctor’s bond with his wife fading as life left him, his choosing not to regenerate. As she had held him, he knew that she had been fatally injured and the destruction of their psychic bond would kill her.

The Nineteenth Doctor knew that the one called Jules had filled Olivia with the last of his regeneration energy to make her strong enough to survive the trauma of the psychic break when he died. On Hogwarts’ bridge not long before, he had shared every memory of their love with the Nineteenth Doctor. Foxfire had altered every timeline for each Doctor after the fixed events happened. 

Ten had Rose. Eleven had River. Clara had Danny Pink. DoctorDonna's memories were restored when Wilt passed away. She had lived out her life with her husband and came forward in time when he passed. Clara was restored to life after her last heartbeat when Foxfire had asked the Quantum Shades of Hogwarts to restore her life in Clara’s original universe. Bill had chosen to remain a water-based entity and travel the universe with Heather. 

Now, Nine/ Nineteen sat in the med bay beside the fourth Librarian who barely clung to life, deeply immersed in a healing coma. His mind was so inverted that nothing registered when he scanned her with his sonic screwdriver. The Tardis had last her connection with reality with the loss of her pilot and her daughter, collapsing psychically upon herself, nothing more than a shell. He piloted the transdimensional shell of a time ship to New Savannah and found Sister Nominae, begging her for one more boon to save his beloved wife and his precious ship. 

She did for a price.

It had taken decades for her to regenerate Olivia’s neural pathways permanently damaged during the psychic break when Jules had died. She and her unborn child remained in stasis while Nominae labored endlessly to repair the harm done by the Doctor’s death and the scarring caused by her past injuries. Forty-eight years and nine months later, she proclaimed her work on Olivia a success. There was only one setback. Olivia’s memories of her time with the Doctor had been lost and were irretrievable. There was no bond between her and Nineteen. With the work Nominae did to save two lives, it was as if the bond had never been. 

The Doctor wept bittersweet tears of losing the woman he had known and getting her back along with her child. Donna uniquely understood from both perspectives being the one with lost memories and feeling the Doctor’s hearts break.

“You don’t give up, Space Romeo,” she said one day, poking him in the chest. “Never give up, never give in.”

“She’s gone.”

“Nah,” Donna gave a dismissive wave. “She’s just on vacation. If you don’t have what you lost, then you start over.”

“How?” His eyes appeared bright blue as they were red from crying. 

“From the beginning," Donna laid a hand on her brother's shoulder. “Court her, woo her, ask her out. You never heard of dating?”

“Time Lords don’t date,” he grumbled. 

Donna pointed a thumb in Olivia’s direction. “But, humans do and Olivia is still mostly human. So, do what humans do. Ask her out.”

“Might have already,” he mumbled.

“That’s very human and I’m going to show you how to get her to say yes. Did I ever tell you that I'm often considered the best matchmaker in Chiswick?”

“Yeah, might have once or twice,” Chris grumbled, not daring to acknowledge that small flicker of something inside his mind. He called it hope. “There's never been a human Time Lord Metacrisis before and now I know why.”

“Because no one had never tried to figure out how to make it stick?” Donna asked.

“No,” Chris gave her a look of mock disdain. “It’s because once you start talking, you never stop.”

“Oi!” Donna stood akimbo before punching the Time Lord soundly in the arm. “Watch it, Cowboy.”

“Watch it, Cupid,” they playfully glared at each other. 

“You need a wing gal, anyway,” Donna scoffed. “Not like you can get a girl on your own. You don’t know your knob from your arse.”

“Hey, doing all right, me,” Chris crossed his arms, staring hard at the ginger Time Lady glowering back at him. 

“Somebody has to make sure that you don’t muck up things. Between me and Nora, we’ll get you where you need to be.”

Christopher glanced upward to the ceiling. “Rassilon, help me.”

DWDWDWDWDWDWDW

“We’re stuck here now. The walls of the universe have closed and we can’t get back. All we have is this little blue marble floating in the middle of the universe. It's dimensional retroclosure. Look, I told you and I was right. Her body is soaking up her native universe’s artron energy and she’s healing. “

“So, what’s the next move, Stud Muffin?” Donna asked as she poured Chris a cuppa at the kitchen table. 

“Nora’s working at the Library and Rue is her roommate.” Chris took the cup from her, putting in two sugars and cream. “Even if she doesn’t want me, I know that she’ll be safe and she and the baby will be looked after.”

“That’s it?” The redhead turned around, her brows raised in question. “When are you going to meet her?”

“I already have,” he mumbled, absently stirring his spoon in his tea. “She had a bout of morning sickness.”

“Did she ruin your boots?” Donna smirked.

“No, I held her hair back,” Chris laid down the spoon, hiding his defeat behind a sip of tea.

“No, you got it right,” she grinned. “Brilliant! You were her knight in shining leather. Ooh, you might have a brain in that big head of yours after all. Now, what?”

“I wrote my number in the book I signed and gave her a key to the TARDIS. She didn’t do anything.”

“Well, what do you expect? She doesn’t know you from Adam,” Donna slapped him lightly on the back of the head. “You have to ask her out. You can’t go back now.”

“How? I can’t just show up on her porch saying, ‘Hello, I’m the Doctor.’”

“God, I hope not. You have to actually approach her."

“She’s not the same woman, Donna,” there was a sad look in Chris’s eyes. “Her fire. It’s just . . . gone.”

“She’s in there, I promise. You just have to remind her who she is,” Donna sat down across from her best mate. “So, tell me? Can you love this Olivia now that she’s regenerated?”

“She is quiet, shy, timid. Not at all the woman I knew.”

“And she doesn’t know you from Adam,” Donna reminded him. “Get to know her, don’t judge a librarian by the cover of the book she’s reading.”

“Oi!” Chris barked. “She looked right through me.”

“It's not that she looked through you, it's just that she hasn't seen you yet. Don’t you see what the other Doctors gave you? Come on, one broke the laws of time to keep her alive for you and the other gave his life and memories to you. Same memories, same thoughts, same everything. Same DNA. She gave you a body. Foxfire knew what she was doing.”

“And?”

“Your forevers match. You both have clean slates. Someday, you can let her know that you’re Jules, but she has to get to know Christopher first. If you want to spend your life with Olivia, you’ve got to let her know.” 

“When she held him. . . the other you in her arms on the last day of your life, what was the last thing you said to her? Come on, Big Ears, say it.”

“I said, ‘Be brave. Live. Love enough for the both of us, My Darling Girl, my Re’Hallion. I love you.”

“And where is it going to go from there?” Donna pressed. She picked up the cell phone lying beside his tea mug. “Call and ask her out.”

“What do I say?”

“Hello is a good start,” Donna smirked. 

The phone rang and the number was unknown. Chris thought about pushing the decline button because it was probably a telemarketer. Donna looked over his shoulder. “That’s Olivia. I recognize the number from her medical file.” 

He stared at the phone. It rang twice, three times.

Fuck it. He hit the accept key. “Hello?”

“Hi, er, Chris?” a familiar feminine voice greeted him on the other end of the conversation.

“Yes,” he paused, inhaling deeply, slowly, purposely. “Olivia, hi!”

“I was wondering how you were doing,” she started, not knowing what to say next. 

“Fine, me. Always fine,” he looked at Donna who gave him a big grin and two thumbs up. 

“Hey, I saw your note inside the book,” Olivia started. 

“What are you doing this morning?” Christopher asked at the same time. 

“Sorry, go ahead-” she stopped.

“No, you first,” he responded.

“I was wondering if you’d like,” Olivia desperately searched her mind for what to say next. Her stomach growled. “Are you hungry?”

“Famished,” he answered, taking another sip of his tea.

“Would you like to get together this morning for breakfast?” Olivia looked skyward, thanking the God she believed in for the divine inspiration. “I know a classic 50's diner that makes a great breakfast. I know it’s short notice, but if you’re hungry, I’m buying.”

“Oh. My. God.” Donna mouthed. “Do it!”

“Love to, absolutely love to,” he cradled his mobile a bit closer to his face, turning away from Donna for a bit of privacy. “10 o’clock? Fantastic.”

To Be Continued . . .


	4. Is that a Sonic Screwdriver or Are You Just Glad To See Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor Dances. The Doctor Lies. Did you know that the Doctor flirts and goes on dates? Combine two meddling siblings, a Librarian and some romantic bantering and it just might push Nineteen into his next regeneration.

Olivia eyed her pocket watch pendant, realizing 20 minutes remained to make herself beautiful for breakfast with a tall, handsome man. Perplexed, she searched her wardrobe for the ideal outfit to put on for their early outing, refusing to call it a date. She rifled through her clothing, holding up various blouses and tops that forced her to cringe, “I’m a repressed Librarian without a sex life in over two years.” 

She relied on her go-to choice, her lucky turtleneck because when she didn’t know what to wear. In the past, it was the default uniform of intellectuals, militants and computer pioneers. It was her body armor when she dared to act confidently for over five seconds. Olivia decided ultramarine blue enhanced her complexion. While not her usual color, it was that excellent balance between brainy and sexy.

Olivia plaited thick, curly hair into the classic loose French braid with some volume at the crown. She finished the outfit with her favorite jeans and tactical boots, perfect for winter weather. She turned in a circle to admire herself in front of the full-length mirror hanging off her wardrobe door. Olivia knew she accomplished the ideal balance between sensible and sexy. “Damn, I look good.”

A squeal of joy escaped Olivia, not believing that a nationally known author agreed to a breakfast outing with her. The first time that she’d met him, she thought with was in the same room with favorite Doctor’s doppelganger. Being the Whovian she was, Olivia soon noted subtle differences between the star and the author. She met the actor once at a Con, his fresh scent of soap and shampoo filling her senses. Dr. Noble’s natural blend of spices hit Olivia akin to flaming spice bomb, filling Olivia’s awareness with bergamot, grapefruit, cinnamon, cumin, saffron, black vanilla and a subtle note of tobacco. She detected notes of leather, black and pink pepper with a touch of amber and elemi.

What about Doctor Christopher Noble intrigued Olivia to the point of distraction? Analysis and compartmentalization were her areas of expertise. That’s why she made money when she traveled to Vegas playing Poker. Hats and sunglasses didn’t hide the stench of bullshit when someone tried to bluff Olivia. He was a puzzle wrapped in a mystery inside a paradox who wore a leather jacket. In other words, Nora’s brother stymied her. 

An unanswered question relentlessly nagged Olivia; why had Chris said yes?

DWDWDWDW

The Doctor glanced at his timepiece as the initial wave of panic grew in his chest. 9:56 am. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, inhaling the essence of his Earl Gray tea to calm himself as he waited for Olivia.

She lingered on the edges of his mind, their bond dormant for decades. When he reached out to find it blocked, it was physical anguish. He distracted himself with what humans called hobbies: carpentry, running, reading, jiggery-pokery and world-travel. Loneliness was his constant companion and Solitude became an old friend. He awaited the day when he could show her the stars and feel her breath against his skin, her warmth against his cool skin. He missed the bright, blazing joy inside her mind. At night, lying in bed in the darkness, the want of his sins clung to his fingers as liquid pearls when the Doctor called out her name.

When he had been brought back to life by Foxfire, he begged Sexy to make him someone whom Olivia would love. The TARDIS had surprised him by giving him the body and face that he’d worn in his ninth incarnation -big ears and daft face. “She has a thing for the Ninth Doctor, always has.” 

Then, she’d given him a piece of coral shortly after being made corporeal and told him to be patient. What he hadn’t counted on was his miscalculations of landing again in Olivia’s Realm, as he called it. He chuckled at the times that Olivia had teased him, saying that the Oncoming Storm wasn’t known for his profound driving skills. When returning to her universe, his calculations had been more than a bit off; he’d had been the Devonian era 450 million years before her existence. The physics of her universe differed from his and the Potterverse, making each trip becoming a learning experience in this strange, unique universe. He appeared in the past and future, but couldn’t hit 2021 until his most recent trip. 

He had Sexy take Olivia home to her native universe and chose to wait for the young TARDIS to grow to maturity. Much like her mother, she was a sassy ship who loved to meddle. Like her mother, she had a bit of sauce in her too, calling herself, “Gorgeous.” He rolled his eyes at that one: like mother, like daughter. 

The Doctor had worried when the young TARDIS had entered the Void, spiraling out of control toward a small hole in the space-time continuum. Entering the rift, he’d fallen against the console, hitting his head before losing consciousness. When he awoke, he found himself lying on the floor in a house surrounded by neighbors, carpet and furniture. Donna, Nora and John explained how the young TARDIS had crashed into the backyard of their three-story Victorian home in the middle of Lincoln. Donna said he was a rubbish driver and this was no exception. 

Through time, they searched for Olivia, finding her at her parents’ funeral. Mentally numb and emotionally absent, she went through the motions of seeing everything through from planning the funeral to getting a financial planner. Olivia did it alone. Von was away at school and she didn’t want him bothered by the endless details involved with their parents’ passing. 

At night, Christopher would close his eyes and reach out to her across a bond that barely existed. Still, he felt her pain slice through her as she cried herself to sleep night after night, missing the people dearest to her in all the world. The nightmares that followed were apocalyptic and horrific in nature. 

He watched in rapt fascination as Olivia took classes at a local community college, learning how to fix her plumbing. Then, he saw her tackle fixing her front porch and doing many of the repairs. Now, he understood where her ability to tinker had originated. He felt her thoughts emanate from her with a deafening shout. She cobbled and built, sanded and finished things to keep her mind distracted from the loneliness she felt. 

The broken bond slowly began to heal itself, reconstructing itself as her mind reached out from her dreams to find some kind of peace. It had nearly killed him to stay away, then seeing her date a man not worthy of her time. Then, he became jealous of seeing his past self with her. He knew he couldn’t disrupt the timeline as his previous selves had or all would fall apart. Thus, the Doctor waited until he knew he could finally reunite with her. 

So, he waited and saw her meet his tenth self. He brooded when he learned that his black-haired, blue-eyed seventeenth incarnation charming her while doing dishes. Christopher watched her leave with the black-haired doctor that had won her heart. He called in favors with Sister Nominae of Olivia’s universe and they’d spent 50 years in the Vortex aboard the Tardis repairing Olivia’s neural pathways while she remained in stasis to protect their unborn child. 

She had been healed but at a price, all memory lost from the night that she had first met the Doctor until the night she returned on New Year’s Eve. She had no memory of nearly six months aboard the TARDIS, their honeymoon at Hogwarts and the final battle at the Bridge or any of the glorious manifestation she had as Foxfire. Olivia had no memory of how she reached out through the Doctor’s timeline, healing every scar that she could to lessen his pain. She didn’t know that her husband had transferred his consciousness to the newly recorporealized Ninth Doctor or how her beloved husband had died in her arms. She never knew how he’d given up the last of his regenerative energy to her so that Olivia would survive the breaking of their bond. He faced his final death for her.

He wondered if she could learn to love him as she did when he had been her British pretty boy. He shagged her like a rent boy and loved her like a madman. In the end, he didn’t know what would happen, because he’d never looked into the timelines for more than a few days or months. He didn’t want to know about losing her again. This time, rather than finding her, Christopher wanted her to choose him: no more rewritten history. He yearned for his Re’Hallion. Being without her, knowing she had fallen in love with another counterpart nearly drove the Doctor spare. 

He arrived early at the Metro Diner, reminding him of Clara and Heather’s TARDIS with its black and white linoleum floors, turquoise booths and pink neon lighting. Accents of red dotted the decor, giving it a vintage Americana ambiance. The waitress who had brought him a hot cup of tea flirted with him as he waited for Olivia. He looked at his watch and out the window, 9:45. He felt anxiety well in his chest at the thought of seeing her again, fighting with the bliss that threatened to overtake him. 

“Doctor?” a quiet voice pulled him from his silent reverie.

He closed his eyes in silent prayer and thanks to the God she believed in. He looked up from his cup of tea. Finally, she was here. His hearts swelled. 

“Good morning,” he rose to greet her. 

She looked different than when he last saw her, tall and dark-haired with eyes the color of dark chocolate. Dressed in jeans and her favorite style of jumper with her blue watch pendant hanging around her neck and hoop earrings catching the morning light, she brought the joy back into his life. She gave him a smile that lit up his world, catching the scent of her excitement in the air. He felt their bond flare to life as the red line across his inner wrist began to throb. 

“You’re here,” his voice came out lower than intended. 

“I hope so,” she gave him a quick wink and a saucy grin. “It’s not every day that I invite someone to breakfast.”

The wink was something new and he’d never seen her smile that way with him. With her hand still in his, he motioned toward the booth. “I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of ordering tea for you with honey. I almost ordered you a fizzy drink.” 

Olivia cocked her head to the side, trying to remember where she had heard that phrase, “fizzy drink.” She blinked a few times, a blank expression coming over her face until she remembered. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Christopher, thank you.”

Olivia wondered why he remained standing until she realized she was still standing. She scooted into the booth and then he sat down. ‘Manners, I like that.’

He felt Olivia’s eyes discreetly surveying him, wondering if he met her expectations in the morning light. He remembered how her mind worked, wondering how specifically she was analyzing him. 

DWDWDWDW

Chris Noble wasn’t a pretty boy like some of the men she knew who spent more time on their appearance and hair products than she did. Olivia determined quickly that he was definitely easy on the eyes with his rugged good looks. She thought his high brow and chiseled features gave him an intensity that other men lacked. Chris had cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass and a prominent, straight nose. His hair was a few shades darker and stood at least an inch taller than the fictional character he resembled. He had eyes that changed color depending on his mood, deep green around the pupil and brighter blue around the iris. 

“Central heterochromia,” she murmured aloud. 

“Nora told me you were observant,” he admitted. “Most people never notice that.”

“It’s something I found interesting a few years ago,” Olivia’s fingers played with her pendant. “I researched it and the knowledge stuck.” 

“So,” the Doctor glanced at the menu. “What do you recommend?”

Olivia willed her eyes to study the menu and not him. His voice was deep, resonant and that Northern burr felt like velvet to her ears. Ruggedly beautiful with more than a hint of Alpha, she appreciated his broad shoulders and lean, sinewy body. She half-expected him to be wearing a vee-neck sweater, but the navy blue turtleneck he wore complimented his blue-green eyes. She had seen that same eye color somewhere and it tugged at her memory. 

They talked for well over an hour over breakfast and things that Olivia had never told him about her life before their time together. She had traveled with her parents during her university days and had seen much of the world. Her brother, Von, had just finished his second tour in Hakuristan and now was thinking about running for Mayor in Lincoln. She discussed how her brother was the shining one in the family. She bragged how he spoke eight languages, was a musical prodigy and had been a Rhodes Scholar. She was proudest when he graduated from Pembrooke at Oxford with a degree in Physics and Philosophy. 

“So, what about you?” Chris asked. “Your bother sounds like an accomplished man, but what about his older sister?” 

“Me?” Olivia blushed, hiding her self-consciousness behind a sip of tea. “I attended the University of Nebraska at Omaha with a degree in Library Science and a Robotics Engineering minor.” 

“So, you like tinkering?” he beamed. Chris thought that her ability to cobble things together came from the TARDIS downloading part of her database in Olivia’s brain. It turned out she’d like putting things together long before they met. “You’re the second genius in the family?”

“No, not even,” she gave a little shrug. " I’m the geek while Von is a certified genius. He’s the super-achiever. I’m more of a business manager and accountant.” 

Chris’s smile widened. “Knew you were brilliant and creative, Olivia Brasseaux. Not every day that I meet a woman smart enough to build a cyborg and do my taxes.”

“I work for the famous green tax company from January through April every year,” she quipped, concentrating too much on filling her mug with more hot water. “Sorry, but a cyborg is above my pay grade.”

“I doubt it,” Chris scoffed, his eyebrows rose in skepticism. He remembered how she nicked contraband alien tech from hidden laboratories in the TARDIS, then crafted some advanced engineering with nothing more than imagination and intuition. He always assumed Olivia’s ability for sonic technology resulted from Sexy downloading her database into the human or a regeneration. He realized her knack for skulduggery came from her acute interest in engineering. Blimey, she was an epiphanic mechanic. “A polygeek, that’s what you are.”

“I will neither confirm nor deny that statement,” Olivia replied in Gallifreyan, returning his smile. She beamed at Chris because it was usually her younger brother who garnished attention as a wunderkind. The way Chris said her name, softly rolling the R's in Brasseaux, made giddiness explode inside her, sending tingles throughout her body. This intelligent, stunning man considered her brilliant.

Olivia turned the page of her menu, trying to find anything that didn’t have eggs. She truly hated eggs with their rubbery texture and their lack of taste. She mumbled something in Gallifreyan that the only good egg was one thrown into the wastebasket. What she failed to see was Chris’s jaw drop three inches when he understood what she said. “Do that again.”

“Do what?” she asked, glancing at him over the top of her menu. She saw his face soften a bit and he possessed an aura of sexiness that Olivia found hard to resist. ‘Oh, no. I’m in way over my head.’

“Nothing. Smart and beautiful,” his blues glistened as his voice dropped, his Northern accent thick with emotion,not having heard someone speak his native language in over half a century. Chris leaned forward just a bit, the smell of leather and spice floating around her. 

“Hmmm l . . h.ow do you like your eggs?” Olivia hid behind her menu.

“I like them pickled, wrapped in bacon, coated in black pudding, breaded and deep-fried,” Chris caught a whiff of pineapple-scented pheromones wafting around her. She liked him. This was good, very good. No, it was fantastic.

“Ew,” Olivia scrunched her face in distaste. “I’ll pass. Give me a good potato skillet without egg and I’m a happy camper.”

“Oi,” he gave her a look of mock outrage. “Don’t be trashin’ what y’ haven’t tried.”

“Not going to try it,” she pointed at his menu. “You have your breakfast and I have mine.”

“You're fussing and moaning now over eggs. Typical! Now, hold on and just listen a bit more,” Chris slowly pushed her menu down to look at Olivia. “I know places where eggs taste like chocolate and smell like sugar, if I took you there, you’d never want to leave.”

“Sorry, but I’ve been to a candy store,” she rolled her eyes. "Are you trying to sweet-talk me, Chris?"

“A bit of hush, you,” he gave her another look of shock. 

“You and what army?” Olivia laid down her menu, crossing her arms. “Gonna make me?”

“Want me to try?” Chris purred. “I’ll love to show you what I’ve got.”

“You better think that through, Chris,” Olivia looked over her glasses. “You may be a Doctor Who expert, but I have sonic duct tape. Let’s see what you’ve got, Dude, show me what’s in your pocket.”

They looked at each other, aghast by the innuendo flowing between them. Olivia felt heat pool where she sat and her cheeks flush. She watched tips of Chris’s ears turn red and he hid behind his menu. 

“Well, if this is how you treat all of your dates, I’m hot, bothered and hungry. So, let’s order breakfast,” Olivia laughed. “I haven’t enjoyed that much good banter in a long time. You’re quick.”

His two hearts beat a syncopated rhythm, pounding in his chest. Giving her a lopsided grin, he booped her lightly on the nose. “Not bad, you’re quick with the comebacks, I’ll give you that.”

The tension melted into a warm feeling flowing between them. As the date continued, Chris realized that he knew very little about Olivia’s past and wanted to learn more without being invasive or suggested. He directed the conversation toward safer topics. 

“Why did you want to study robotics engineering?” Chris asked.

“You really want to know?” her eyes widened, surprised by his genuine interest. She saw bright yellow dots dancing about him and that signaled intellectual interest.

“Yeah, I do.” Curiosity consumed, wanting to know all of the secrets of the woman sitting across from him

“I wanted to build a sonic screwdriver; an authentic one that actually worked.” “I’m a geek to the core and avidly curious.” 

"I bet you were trouble on two legs as a child," he retorted. "Too bright for your own good."

"Maybe, maybe not, "Olivia shrugged. “Whenever Mom and Dad took me Hobby Lobby or Barnes and Noble, I was in the Science Aisle looking at the models of rockets, machines and robots one could build. I wanted to build practical things with multiple applications, such as a mug that automatically cooled a hot drink to the perfect drinking temperature. I wanted to build a sonic screwdriver that could be everything from a car fob to a self-defense weapon.”

“And did you?” he asked, his voice low.

“Oh, yeah,” she grinned, giving him a wink. “The first one I built was for the Junior High Science Fair in 2005. I bought a toy version of the Ninth Doctor’s sonic screwdriver, rewiring it with a high decibel alarm and multi-colored LED lights. The other one I built worked as a remote control and unlocked doors. However, when I accidentally set off the one with the alarms, my science teacher wasn’t impressed.”

Olivia gave a sardonic laugh. “I’m sure she wasn’t impressed. She was actually annoyed.”

“She should’ve been impressed,” Chris huffed. “Why wasn’t she impressed?”

“I couldn’t turn off the alarm,” Olivia cringed. “The button stuck. She said I was evil incarnate trying to dry her insane. Too bad it didn't work."

“Oi,” he laughed, a rich, resonating chuckle that made Olivia's heart skip a beat. "Didn't like her much, did you?" 

“Oi is right,” she chuckled. “Mrs. Saxon was quite annoyed with me.”

“Well, what happened?”

“I got 3rd place,” she shrugged. “First place went to Kim Park who showed true quantum-locking by using magnets power a miniature hovercraft. 

“Who got second?”

“The kid who built a battery the way the ancient Egyptians did to prove they used electricity to light the pyramids. She did a great job.” 

At least, Chris finally knew why building sonic screwdrivers came so easily for her. This was the Olivia he never knew and he realized how much she had changed since her last incarnation. “All that inspiration from Doctor Who?”

“Every ounce of it, plus Star Trek and a bit of Star Wars,” she grinned. “One of these days, I’m going to build a true lightsaber, then I’ll build a sonic saber.” 

“So, what made you decide to became a librarian?” Chris asked quietly.

“Information,” Olivia explained. “I’m a voracious reader, Chris. It’s my own personal brand of heroin.”

“You could’ve done anything you wanted, but your love for knowledge outweighed everything,” he smiled, remembering how Olivia loved studying for her Hogwarts classes every night, avidly reading her texts for the next’s day's lecture.

“Well, not exactly,” she pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “My grades were good, but not high enough to get me into MIT, Stanford, or Harvard. The University of Nebraska -Omaha, however, allowed me to get my degree in Library Science and minor in robotics engineering at the same time.”

“And your brother?” Chris asked, gentleness in his voice.

“Full ride to Harvard, then off to Oxford and then war hero in Hakuristan,” she gave Chris a wistful smile. “Next, he’s probably planning to walk on water or run for President. It depends on the day.” 

He grimaced at her disappointed posture and sighed. “Being true to yourself is always the best choice you can make. The world would is a much better place with beautiful minds like yours.”

Olivia beamed and he grinned when he coaxed a smile out of her. Chris wasn’t one to flirt, but he couldn’t help it when he was around her. Olivia finally responded, her voice was so quiet that Chris barely heard her. “Thank you for your kind words.” 

He was smitten. “What goes on in that beautiful mind of yours?”

“Who knows, but it’ll be one hell of a magical mystery ride. Are you up for it?” she found herself asking Chris before she had a chance to filter her words. 

“Oh, yes,” Chris said with such intensity that Olivia shivered with delight. Part of her wanted to crawl over the table and snog him right at that moment in the diner. “So, enough about me. Your turn to be in the hot seat.

Chris smelled the faint perfume of vanilla and pineapple with a hint of banana and something like salted caramel in the air. Sweet and tangy with a pinch of salt filled his mouth with a fruity sweet taste on his tongue. He had superior olfactory senses, but this was the first time he had tasted Olivia’s arousal lingering in the air; sweet and tangy. 

“So, what about you, Chris?” Olivia rested her chin on steepled hands. “How many siblings?”

“Two. Donna and Nora,” he answered. “You’ve met Nora, the family control freak. Donna is the mouth that never stops running.”

“Oh,” she kept her face neutral, trying not to agree or disagree. “Have I met Donna?”

“You can’t miss her,” he gave a manic grin. “Sarcastic, sharp-tongued, hot-tempered ginger.”

“Does she work at St. Gertrude’s?” Olivia’s brow furrowed. 

“She does.”

“I’ve met her,” she confirmed. “She’s Doctor Kyle’s administrative assistant.”

“So, Nora is the Alpha personality, Donna is an acute humorist and that makes you the one caught in the middle?”

“Could be,” he looked out the window. 

“So, what’s the order? Are you the oldest?” Olivia asked. 

“Yup,” he softly popped the ‘p.” 

It boggled her mind that they all seemed doppelgangers of the Who cast. She realized that he didn’t like talking about his past. 

“Awkward,” Olivia grimaced. “Did I say something to offend you?”

‘No,” he snapped out of his trance, immediately returning to the here and now. Leaning forward, he laced his fingers with hers. “You never could.” 

She wondered what he was like beneath the mercurial facade. “Really?’

His voice was quiet and she had to strain to catch his words. “Really.”

“I can ask you anything?”

“Anything at all,” Olivia felt a strong current arc between them, intimate and loving. That energy flowing between them carried adoration and warmth, going deep into her psyche. An exciting familiarity danced along her skin, resonating deeply within her. 

Olivia remained silent for a moment, closing her eyes and lost in Chris’s strength and the unexpected serenity that came with it. “So, what made you want to come to the States?”

“I, uh,” he looked away for a moment. “I lost someone dear to me and I needed a fresh start.”

“I’m so sorry,” Olivia nodded in understanding. She remembered how her ex-boyfriend, John, had ghosted her with no more than a voicemail stating he was returning to the UK and asked to have a good life. She knew it wasn’t the same as what Chris had mentioned. 

“Don’t be,” he looked out the window somewhere into the distance, lost in a memory. “She’s in a better place.” 

“I have no words, Chris,” Olivia murmured, she began pulling her hand from his, but he gave hers a gentle squeeze.

“No, I didn’t do domestic well, didn’t like the earth settling under my feet, me.” she heard the roughness in the Doctor’s voice, saw the naked emotion in those blue-green eyes and felt the raw anguish tainting his soul. Behind blue eyes, she tasted his trustworthiness, his kindness and his inner strength. He had a rough edge to him, sarcastic and stoic, but a heart brimming over with compassion. Olivia felt the heat of his temper, the thunder of the oncoming storm, the gentleness of the rain and the gentle breeze that followed. He was a man who lost much and found redemption, maybe peace. 

The onslaught of synesthetic telepathy sent her a barrage of thoughts, images, memories and emotions. She inhaled deeply of the fresh after-rain scent and felt the cool droplets of water splash on her skin. She stood atop a grassy hill under a gray, overcast sky. Olivia cocked her head to the side, not understanding the place where they stood in her vision. 

“And now?”

“I didn’t do domestics, then,” he said again. “I’m giving it a second thought. I'm a changed man.”

“A brave man faces his fears while a wise man embraces them,” Olivia nodded in understanding.“With your credentials, you can find a job anywhere,” she snapped her fingers. “like that.”

“I want to put down roots,” Chris leaned back as the server brought their breakfast and set it on the table. “I don’t want to regret or forget. I’ve traveled the world livin’ out of a suitcase, Olivia. I don’t want to roam anymore.”

“Really?” Olivia did her best to keep her face neutral, refusing to let forth the squeal of delight threatening to bubble out of her. “How so?”

“I find that I like working with m’ hands,” he gave her a smile. “Planting a garden, growing flowers, carpentry, me. There’s more to domesticity that sleep, watching telly and eating-”

“Beans on toast,” they said simultaneously. Chris’ eyes widened when Olivia said the same words at the same time he did.

“Sorry,” she started, brushing a stray curl behind her ear. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. It’s a habit I’ve never quite been able to break.” 

“Never had someone finish my sentence before,” he said with his rumbling burr that made her shiver. 

“Not many people mention eating beans on toast,” she replied. “So, you came here to the States for a fresh start and you brought the entire clan.”

“Yeah,” He closed his eyes for a moment, “Donna was already here working for a neurologist and Dad decided he wanted to see the world. Of course, Nora decided that she’d pick the place we were going to live and relished planning everything from the job hunt to finding the right house.” 

“Gee, imagine that,” she gave him a wry grin. “Nora researching every metropolitan hot spot in the US to find the optimal location, visiting it seven times to make sure it was the perfect plant-based upon population, employment opportunity, cost of living, crime rate, how it rated for raising children, etcetera..” 

“That’s Nora,” Chris agreed. “How did you know?”

“It’s one of the first things we discovered we have in common,” Olivia explained. “We are both research buffs and love to learn anything about everything. There’s just one difference. For me, it’s a hobby. For her, it’s an obsession.”

“Blimey, you do know her well.”

“It’s not every day that you come across someone who understands why I enjoy Star Trek so much.”

“Oi!” Chris gasped in mock shock. “Traitor! I thought you were a Whovian.” 

“That, too.” She took a sip of her water, giving him a sly look. “I met her on her third trip here last year and she came to the library to interview for a position. Who do you think told her exactly what shade TARDIS blue is?” 

“So, you’re the one responsible for having our house look like the world’s biggest blueberry!”

“No, that’d be Nora,” she gently corrected him. “I just made the suggestion that it’s a distinct color.”

“You’re an evil influence on her,” he accused, his eyes showing the laugh lines at the corners as he pointed his fork at her. “You’re the one that made us take tours of over three dozen houses before for she found the right one.”

“I knew a guy,” Olivia gave him her best innocent angel stare. “I didn’t make her do anything.”

“The thing is a labyrinth,” he muttered as the server returned with his steak and eggs and Olivia’s bacon and pancakes.

“You live in the large three-story Victorian home on the west end of town,” Olivia motioned the server over to their table. They placed their order and had another serving of hot water for their tea. “It’s a beauty.” 

“Yes, she is,” Chris said, not thinking of the house as he said it.

“So, you all live together?”

“The house is big enough for ten people,” he grinned. “You could fit an entire planet in there.”

“I believe it,” Olivia agreed. “how do you like living there?”

“It’s fantastic,” Chris made no attempt to hide his enthusiasm. “Every room tells a story.”

“Nora said that you and your dad are restoring the house?”

“Yup, we going to bring that lady back to her height of glory.” 

They spent two hours over breakfast and pie, discussing everything from his views on feminism and equality to her pregnancy. When she explained that she didn’t remember becoming pregnant, he nodded and continued listening without judgment. He asked about her pregnancy and she told him how she had come to terms with it. He asked if there was a man in her life and she said no.

Olivia explained she found that she loved science fiction and began attending science fiction conventions in her early twenties. They talked about what they had in common and how they differed in their musical tastes with Chris enjoying reggae and soul while Olivia preferred dance rock and 70’s disco. She learned that he enjoyed running marathons, football (soccer) and gardening. More than once, he found his hand covering hers as they talked, trying to remember that she didn’t know him yet and not to rush things. 

He immersed himself in her presence, letting Olivia wash over him. He had lived too long without her and knowing that she sat a few feet away made Chris want to take her back to the TARDIS and make love to her until she remembered everything they had been to one another. Now, he had all of the restrictions between them being strangers and having to take the slow path of getting to know each other. Chris wanted to simply tell her that he was the one who died in her arms one moment and came to life the next because she wished it. 

He felt Olivia’s mind brush against his, seeking out that familiar rapport without knowing what it was. He felt her curiosity ticking his consciousness, not trespassing, but flitting around the edges, seeing what she could see without going too far. He knew he looked different than when she had last seen him. She had once called his black-haired, blue-eyed self a panther, his brown-eyed incarnation a tiger in the boudoir and his boyish self an uncoordinated house cat who jumped three feet when he saw a cucumber. Unconsciously, she’d been comparing him to his previous self, noting the difference in hair, eye color and height. He had controlled his recoporealization purposely to be a man she could love, to be the Time Lord she needed. 

“So,” Olivia steepled rested her chin on steepled hands. “Who is your favorite author?”

“Charles Dickens,” he answered. He saw her eyebrows shoot upwards. Her brow furrowed and she began a rapid-fire of questions. “Yours?”

“C.S. Lewis,” she smiled.

“Favorite food?” Chris looked at her empty plate.

“Spaghetti,” she said. “And you?”

“Bananas.”

“Food that you like the least?” she asked, a not of wariness in her voice. “You already know mine.”

“Pears,” Chris’ disdain showed on his face.

Olivia’s breath hitched and the Doctor’s eyes widened. He realized that he’d given her answers that he shouldn’t have because he had crossed his own timeline in this strange and foreign universe too many times in the past fifty years. Some of that information had made it into writing and into the show based on his existence. 

He realized she had caught him unawares and he’d answered the way only she knew the Doctor would answer. He could see the calculations and processing occurring in her mind at light-speed. One dark brow quirked in silent question, stunned into silence. She was a good Whovian who knew all of those answers. Here sat a man who had made his way to fame by writing a bestseller about a mysterious alien appearing throughout history. How was it that he had the same preferences? 

“Who are you, Chris?”

“I’m just a traveler weary of passing through,” he answered, a bit of sadness making his eyes suspiciously bright. “I’d like to be the lucky bloke who gets to know you better.”

“Well,” she cleared her throat. “Keep running smoothly with those lines and who knows? Are you going to stick around for the long haul?”

Olivia silently berated herself, willing her mind to return to reality and leave the fantasies alone. She liked her men how she liked her tea: he’s hot and British, and he was both. She didn't want the this incredible man think she was living in a make-believe world.. 

“Yes,” he said, then swallowed. “Is that all right?”

“Perfect.”

He felt the fear and the shyness that he’d first seen in her the night they met at his lecture. Suddenly, the curious Olivia that he knew had retreated behind the mask of a face of neutrality, not letting any emotions show. He needed to hear her laugh, he wanted to feel her joy come off her in waves, washing over him as it just had for the past hour. He was addicted to the beauty of her colorful mind and soothing soul. 

“So, do you think it’s possible to build a working sonic screwdriver?” he asked, hoping to coax her out of the psychic armor she had wrapped around herself. He had taught her too well to how to shield her thoughts when she decided it was needed, he mused. He needed, no, ached to know what she was feeling.

Her dark eyes went from wary to enthusiastic in a nanosecond. “It’s very possible if you have the right parts.”

“Do you think you could make it work?”

“Oh, yeah,” Olivia gave him a knowing grin. “I put a little something together and it works in a pinch.”

“You’re trying not to brag, aren’t you?”

“Trying,” she blushed. “Succeeding rather well, I thought. I can show you how easy it is to have a real working sonic screwdriver. I have it with me.”

“So, let’s see your jiggery-pokery,” he motioned toward her. “C’mon, show me what you’ve got.”

“You asked for it,” she warned him, reaching into her purse and pulling out a rose gold tube-like structure that Chris thought looked about nine inches long. It looked more like a magic wand than a sonic screwdriver, wondering if her memories of Hogwarts were still inside her mind, influencing the design. He noticed the ornate flourishes and stone embellishing it, making it a thing of beauty rather than a tool.

She slid it across the table until it sat in front of him. He picked it up, examining it from end to end, including the clear quartz crystal on the end. He weighed it in his hand, surprised by the balance and the craftsmanship. He noticed the small colored jewels in spectral sequence along the ornate, embellished handle. He saw a small chronometer built in at the top of the hilt. 

“So, does it work?” Chris looked at her. “What’s the power source?”

“Well,” she fidgeted a little in her seat, playing with the tail of her braid. “Me.”

“You?” Chris made no attempt to hide his exuberance. “Enlighten me. How?”

“Well, I was watching Doctor Who on my phone one day, when I thought, ‘what exactly is artron energy?’ I researched and found artron energy is psychic energy that comes from deep within the mind. It is the manifestation of thought and perception, of history and memory. It’s time itself. What the creators of the show thought was some imaginative idea turned out to be the real deal a couple of decades later.”

“How do you become the power source?” he pressed. 

“Impatient much?” Olivia teased, taking a bite of her pie. “I’m getting to that part. Patience, Padawan.”

“Oi!” he protested.

“Oi, yourself, Dude,” she scolded him. 

He beamed when Olivia called him, ‘Dude.’ He knew at that moment his wife, his Re’Hallion, was lurking just below the surface waiting to bubble forth in all of her colorful personality. “Go on.”

“Forty percent of the world’s population is either actively telepathic or shows latent abilities,” Olivia explained. “I had an epiphany.”

‘Epiphanic Mechanic,’ Pride filled him as his wife had made do with what she had and made it well. His eyes quit twinkling and became more intense. “What did you find?”

“Artron energy is another name for black body energy, dark energy, Hawking Radiation. It’s the energy that powers the TARDIS,” Olivia continued, joy entered into her conversation. “Artron energy comes from the Eye of Harmony also known as the power source of the TARDIS. It’s an artificial black hole.”

“And?” Chris encouraged her to continue, his excitement tinging his voice. “How does that tie into you being the power source?” 

“I’m one of the 40 percent,” she gave a sly smile, the corners of it twitching with glee. “The human mind is capable of producing the same energy that the Eye of Harmony does to power the TARDIS.”

“Fantastic,” his voice low and urgent.

“In small amounts, there isn’t enough energy to fill an AA battery, let alone a sonic screwdriver. I decided to find a way to increase the amount of energy coming from the human brain. Once, I figured that out, then I built a corresponding transponder into the screwdriver to pick up the signal.” 

“How?” Chris’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do?” 

“Every brain contains a small amount of magnetite, the substance that helps with learning and memory with a lot produced in the hippocampus and the parietal lobe. Dark energy is stored in magnetic fields and Magnetite is iron-based. So, I figured I had to stimulate my brain.”

The Doctor had a low tone in his voice, sensual and lilting, due to his Northern burr. “How, Ollie?”

“Give those bits of magnetite a bit of bounce with some electrical stimulation,” Olivia tapped her temple, then pulled back that stray curl that had fallen away from her ear to reveal a Bluetooth earpiece. “Due to a brain injury and synesthesia, my parietal lobe works overtime. I modified this deelybopper to give off small bursts of electricity to stimulate the magnetite in my participial lobe.”

He breathed in quiet awe. “A high voltage dose of electricity can result in an increased release of Artron Energy.” 

“It’s really not that difficult when you think about it. Don’t ask me about the math of physics. I am horrible at that. I like to cobble things together and see if I can make something new. It worked and now I can use it as a key fob, security device and remote control. Now, if I could only get it to make toast.”

Chris looked as if Jack Harkness had performed a striptease in front of him. “Have you thought about the risks? That could hurt the baby.”

“I did all of this before I found out I was pregnant last week,” Olivia quickly assured him. “Once I found out that I was expecting, I haven’t used it from that day forward.”

“Brilliant,” he grinned. “Clever one, you are.”

“Well, thank you,” she nodded. “I appreciate the compliment.”

He slid the sonic screwdriver toward her and she tucked it back inside her purse. “You could make millions.”

“I thought about it. Children are expensive. However, I need more time to research and develop it. I want this to be safe to use and not turned into some sort of weapon. If I can find another way to power it, then I’ll patent it. Nora said you’re good at keeping secrets.”

“Like a clam.” he quipped. He sensed that she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Why he wasn’t certain, but he wanted to know more about the little one growing inside her.

“Do you have any names picked out yet?” Chris asked, nodding toward her still-flat stomach.

"No, not even close," she admitted, giving a heavy sigh. "I just feel alone, Chris, all the baby has is me

"You have Nora," he encouraged. He wanted to say' you have me,' but caught himself before the words spilled out. "And Rue."

"How do you know about Rue?" a puzzled look crossed her features.

"Uh," he thought quickly. Damned, he wished psychic paper covered for muck-ups. "Nora told me." 

Somewhere between ordering pie and discussing sonic screwdrivers, their fingers had entwined. Chris gave her a manic, goofy grin as both hearts sounded like a drumline in his chest. Olivia started feeling that warm wave of bliss washing over them as neither spoke for several breaths. She felt a twitch in her womb and thought she needed to excuse herself when her phone started playing an obnoxious ring tone.

“It’s Nora,” she groaned. “Wonderful timing.” 

“Don’t answer it,” the Doctor nodded toward the phone. “Let it go to voicemail.”

She gave a small sigh. “I’m enjoying this date with you. I want to continue enjoying and we’ll never get a moment’s peace if I don’t answer.”

“True,” Chris gave her hand a brief squeeze, inwardly groaning at his sister’s poor timing.

“Hey, Nora,” Olivia turned away from Chris, her voice quiet as she spoke into the phone. “What’s up?”

“Bloody hell, you’re hard to reach!” she heard a sharp voice on the other end of the line. “Chris isn’t answering his mobile.”

“Weeelll,” Olivia stalled. “ That’s because he may have turned it off earlier. We’re, uh, still on our date.”

“Ooooh,” Nora squealed with interest. “Talk to me. How’s it going? Has he tried chatting you up? Is he on the pull? Are you pulling back? Are you flirting like I taught you?”

“Definitely an adventure,” Olivia said, grinning as she looked down where their hands remained together. “And, no, he isn’t trying to pull me or chat me up. He’s being a perfect gentleman.”

She saw Chris glower at her her cell phone, crossing his arms.

“Is that a good adventure or a bad adventure?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny current status,” Olivia said with more than a hint of monotone. "But, I'm liking it." 

Nora exclaimed. “Now, spill it.”

“No,” Olivia chuckled at her friend’s excitement.

"Bitch." 

“This coming from the woman who thinks Kylo Ren is hot,” Ollie scoffed. “Get over yourself, Noble. You’ll just have to wonder for a while. I’m going back to my date and enjoy my time with your tall, handsome brother. Good-bye.”

“You think I’m handsome with this daft face and big ears?” He flicked his lobes, his masculine pride grew twice its size at that moment.

“Dead sexy. Is that a problem?” she winked. 

“No,” his voice came out an octave higher than he meant it to.

Olivia looked at her pocket watch pendant. "Oh, wow! It's half-past one."

"Somewhere you have to be?" Chris did his best to keep his face neutral and his voice quiver-free.

"No," Olivia shook her head.

"Do you want this to end?" he asked. Chris decided, sod it. He took her hand in his. "I don't want to go."

"Then, don't. We," Olivia stuttered, trying to figure out what to say. She wanted to spend more time with him, but inviting him back to her house with a baying dachshund, a howling cat, a bombastic roommate and a nosy priest seemed a bit much for a first date. "How about we go to a park for a walk? It's lovely weather. I know this lovely little park not far from here that has an ice cream store right across the street."

"It sounds wonderful," he agreed, his manic grin encouraged Olivia. "But it's February, doesn't the cold bother you?"

"Cold never bothered me, anyway. Let's go." Olivia rose from the table, leaving two twenty-dollar bills on the table. "C'mon, Handsome, ice cream is on me."

TO BE CONTINUED . . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'm playing with tropes. First dates, flirting, amnesia, unplanned pregnancy. I'm trying some new things that I haven't done before. I admit it, I have a thing for Nine. Can't help it. Songs for this chapter: "All of Me," by John Legend, "Let It Go," from Frozen and "Love Don't Roam," by Murray Gold. Enjoy.


	5. The Doctor Dates

10:03 PM CST on Saturday, 21st February 2021

Olivia and Christopher stood under the dim golden light illuminating her front porch. The day began with breakfast and pie with a tentative touch of fingers. From the Metro Diner to Hazel Abel Park, eating ice cream and continuing their conversation, the slow winter day turned in a dark, chilly night. After the sun had set, the evening hinted of unspoken promises and a future not unfurled. 

Olivia didn’t want the day to end, silently praying for more time with the amazing man only inches away from her. She said nothing, simply basking in that one moment of temporal paradise. It seemed as if time passed slowly, allowing her to savor every moment they spent together. Eventually, they ended up sitting on her front porch swing under the golden light, talking quietly. 

She decided that she was irrevocably smitten with the brusque, snarky, and virile Physics professor sitting beside her. She hadn’t felt that way since John. She closed her eyes, willing away the memories attached to that name. Past was past and no life remained in those memories. She closed her eyes to reassemble her senses, her strange knack for the passage of time, to be here in the present. 

Olivia cataloged Christopher’s personality and she liked what she discovered. Christopher was brooding, sarcastic and frenetic, but with focus and purpose. His humor was dry and subtle, making her smile and laugh until her sides ached. They didn’t agree on everything, but Chris provided the best conversation she had enjoyed in years. 

He did have a penchant for polo neck jumpers, but not the v-neck “jumpers” the Doctor wore. Christopher said he’d taken a liking to them a few months when he discovered Nebraska winters were notoriously tetchy. Another lively discussion ensued: turtleneck vs. polo neck, sweater vs. jumper. He’d make a snarky remark and Olivia quipped a snappy rejoinder. He was the immovable object and she the unstoppable force.

“Well, Nebraska is the only place where you can have a blizzard, rain, tornado, and scorching heat all in one week,” she ticked off each of the weather conditions on one hand. “You do know we don’t have four, but five seasons?”

“Really?” Chris appeared intrigued by that paradoxical meteorological statement.

“Indeed,” Olivia kept her voice deadpan. “Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter, Road Construction, and Football.”

He was passionate about football (she said it was soccer and they had a spirited debate until they agreed to disagree.) Manchester United was his favorite team. She argued that he didn’t know what football was until he attended a Husker game. If he wanted her to try bangers and mash, she’d introduce him to Runzas. Nothing on Earth was as delicious as a Nebraska steak. 

Chris found out Olivia had a strong faith in God, was an avid lover of books, Doctor Who, and an animal lover while loved politics and was a strong supporter of the Labor Party in the UK. Passionate about family and community, participating in several projects in the city such as Houses for Humans and Community Garden. She told him that she admired a man who was as good with a trowel as he was with a hammer.

‘I’m no hero,’ he replied.

‘Not all heroes wear capes, Doctor,’ she reminded him. ‘Some wear leather.”

Physically, Chris made Olivia internally shiver with delight. For two years she had been in dry dessert status and now experienced a torrential downpour. His voice carried that velvety Northern burr. She loved the rough rumble and rolling of the R's and Christopher sounded dead sexy. She thought he had a beautiful mind, imaginative and thoughtful. 

“I had a wonderful time with you today, Chris,” she felt her cheeks heat with shyness as the words tumbled from her lips. “I’d, uh, well,” her mouth felt dry and her tongue like sandpaper. “Sorry, just a little nervous.”

Chris beamed, giving her that wide, boyish grin that she associated with him now. “Me, too.” 

“You?” she gave her best skeptical scare while looking over her glasses at him. “C’mon, Dude, you are a famous bestselling author and millions of Whovians grovel at your feet all while you dance around the universe teaching Quantum Physics-”

“And take delight in a woman with a sharp mind and a sharper tongue who is almost young enough to be one of my college students,” he quipped.

“Hey, I’m twenty-nine,” she exclaimed, batting him playfully on the arm. “And what are you, Chris? Fifty-nine?”

“Oi! Don’t be adding on years that aren’t there,” he stared intently at those blue eyes. He flashed her a look of mock outrage, hand on his chest as he feigned offense. “People will think I’m robbing the cradle.”

“Or maybe I’m just breaking into the Nursing Home,” she quipped. “If people don’t like it they can-”

With a smirk, the Doctor raised a brow in question.

“-take a hike,” she finished. He gave a small nod. Olivia gave him a wink, “yes, I thought about saying the more graphic phrase, but I’m not always that forthright. I can play nice.”

“You’re more than nice,” his voice rumbled quiet and deep between them. 

Olivia felt her womb contract with sensual delight. She wanted to feel his hardness against her curves, his lips on hers, his tongue tasting her as she snogged him beneath the dim porch light. 

Snog? She didn’t say snog. With that thought, she brushed it aside like an annoying gnat. Across her mind flickered images of desire while the scent of smoke, pepper, and cinnamon swathed around her. The aroma of autumn, fiery spices filled the air mixed with the fruity citrus of pineapple and banana with a hint of vanilla. She felt a hard length against her hip and his breath caught. 

She felt her heart pound double-time in her chest. She skittered to the other side of the swing, standing up as if bitten. “Sorry, sorry, sorry!”

The Doctor looked up at her with eyes that were dark with desire. He moved away to give her distance. He had cocked up and he knew it, moving too fast and too soon. Olivia was feisty and hadn’t shown a dislike for physical contact. They had held hands and walked arm in arm for most of the day. Chris felt like a fool for coming on too strong. “Why are you apologizing? I moved too fast.”

“It’s not that,” she panted, trying to catch her breath. “I invaded your privacy and I-”

“What do you mean, Ollie?”

“I’m. . .” she felt her cheeks flame at pushing into his mind that way, horrified that she’d do such a thing. “telepathic. I guess I should’ve told you this morning, but not exactly something you bring up on the first date. It’s pretty much along the same lines as telling someone, ‘Hi, I’m Ollie and I’m pregnant.’”

“Then, that’s another thing we have in common,” he grinned. Her tension was palatable, hanging around her. Odd, he never thought of humans’ emotions that way, strong enough to taste. 

“You’re pregnant?” she asked with an innocent look on her face.

“Cheeky gob you’ve got,” his stern response directly contrasted that twinkle of mirth in his eyes. Chris realized she wasn’t shy, she was frightened; terrified of touching another human being because of why she might do. She hid behind a facade of profanity and impish behavior. “I am, too. Touch telepath, me.”

“That explains a lot and then some,” she hated sounding breathless. “So, that explains the word ‘snog’ was that R-rated movie trailer yours or mine?”

“You saw that, huh?” Christopher fidgeted where he sat, reaching forward with both palms ups about a foot apart. “Sorry. Got a bit carried away.”

Olivia looked away. “I think we both caught the same train of thought. It’s mutual.”

His respiratory bypass caught and now he truly knew what humans meant when they said waited with bated breath. She looked at him again. “That’s good to know.”

“Well, that’s certainly a first,” she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ve never seen that much action on the first date.”

“I’m not asking for anything sexual,” his hurried reply sounded a little irked and worried. “Humans can’t tell the difference between telepathy, sex, and intimacy. Typical apes.”

Olivia tasted several flavors on her tongue; one for each emotion he felt was akin to tasting onions, blackberries, black pepper, and onions. She caught a hint of banana -classical sign of worry. She realized he had was a worrier. Maybe, it was a fetish for him: apes, and bananas.

After Chris let the epitaph ‘apes’ slip, a strong piquancy held strong on his palate, tangy and spicy. He smacked his lips, appreciating the zesty flavor. He licked his lips, staring at her full pink ones that he wanted to kiss.

Olivia laughed aloud and held up a clenched fist. He recognized it for what it represented, solidarity. It also symbolized Olivia’s relentless stubbornness and rebelliousness. “Primate and proud, baby.”

“Only you could come up with some off-the-wall response like that,” Chris purred.

“Next, we’ll be swinging from the chandeliers,” she gesticulated. “Didn’t you say you like bananas?”

“Speaking of food, Ollie, what am I tasting?”

She smirked. “Blueberry sauce. Are you sure this telepathic exchange is such a good idea? You’re already getting echos of what it’s like for me. If you’re not careful, synesthetic telepathy can be sensory overload.”

“For you or for me?”

“Both,” she admitted. “The visuals alone are enough to make me glad it’s winter.”

“If it bothers you,” he jammed his hands in his pockets. “I can just scoot back, yeah?”

“Chris, this ape don’t deal with drama well,” she motioned toward him. “You’re a good man. I can usually tell the good ones from the bad apples.”

The Doctor hadn’t engaged in direct telepathic exchange since his resurrection from the Matrix and he felt like a first-year Academy student. He realized that the brief telepathic interlude had regenerated much of broken bonds between them. What he hadn’t expected was his physical reaction to psychic rapport with Olivia without any shagging, snogging or canoodling. Now, his tented trousers prompted him to pull the bottom of his coat over his lap.

“I don’t fancy a snog and a shag, Ollie,” he said with a quiet intensity. “I’d like much more than that with you.”

“I’ve -” Olivia leaned against the wall of her porch near the front door. “I’ve never experienced anything like this. What’s happening?”

“We connected,” Chris moved over to the other side of the swing, looking at the empty seat beside him then back at her. She joined him and he tucked her head beneath his chin, wrapping his arm around her. ‘I’ve never tasted emotions before.”

“And I normally don’t read thoughts,” she replied. “That’s not how my telepathy works.”

“I don’t ‘connect’ with others often,” Chris admitted, running his fingers through his dark, shorn hair. “It’s been a long time.”

“Maybe,” Olivia pursed her lips together in contemplation. “Maybe, we fit.”

“Might be,” he agreed, leaning easily in the porch swing, but still a good foot away from Olivia. He was an Alpha, but she wasn’t. He tamped down the wellspring of hope ready to erupt inside him. The Doctor thought that due to TARDIS indwelling within her, she had suffered irreparable brain trauma. Now, she was hearing his thoughts. What he hadn’t expected was to view the world through her senses. That was new. That was fantastic!

“I normally don’t date other telepaths, but you may just change my mind, Christopher Noble.” Olivia dared to look into those clear blue eyes. 

The Doctor opened his arms to her as an invitation, not moving. Olivia pulled back for a moment, scrutinizing him and saying nothing. Several breaths passed between them. He kept them wide open but remained still. She shot into his embrace and Chris pulled her into the crook of his arm. He felt peace for the first time in fifty years while she snuggled there as if he’d been made specifically for her. 

“I might start dating another telepath,” the Doctor gave her a quick hug.

“Fair point,” she agreed. “Are you okay with that?”

“More than okay,” he gave a happy murmur. “It’s fantastic.”

“How did I know you were going to say that?” she chuckled. 

“Olivia, I’d like to kiss you,” he whispered against her hair. “Is that all right?”

‘Hmm,’ she tapped her lip in contemplation and looked skyward as if weighing the options. “I don’t normally do that on the first date.”

“I shouldn’t have-” he realized he had been an absolute git for asking if he could kiss her. 

“I’m giving it due consideration,” Olivia laughed softly, playing with one of the leather lapels of his coat.

“Oh," his face went blank for a moment. That wasn't the response the Doctor had been expecting. Then, a goofy grin appeared on his face. "Would you kiss me on the second date?"

"That depends on if there is a second date," she smirked. "Are you asking?" she gave him a small smile. 

"Might be," he said, giving a small shrug. 

"Are you asking me if I'll kiss you on a second date or are you asking me on a second date, Chris?" 

"Yes," he gave her a nod.

"Which one?" she asked again.

"That depends on your answer," he whispered, his breath cool against the shell of her ear. "I suppose that I'll start with the second question."

“Yes,” Olivia leaned a little closer. “and yes. I think you should kiss me, now.”

Their surroundings fell away in just that brief moment. The cold night chill did nothing to cool Olivia’s response when Chris lightly brushed her lips with his, silently letting her set the pace. He pressed a gentle kiss, tracing a path along her jaw and cheek, then another fleeting caress of her lips. 

Olivia felt his cool tongue flick once across her lips, asking permission. She gasped and he slowly deepened the kiss, savoring it as he pulled her closer. Butterfly kisses made a path from her lips to her cheek and neck, nuzzling against her sensitive earlobe. He pulled her closer and she scooted so that was next to him. Somehow, between the sweet first kisses and the deepening intimacy of learning one another, Olivia found herself in the Doctor’s lap. 

She froze and then was flush against his chest, letting her fingers card through his short hair. Her lips were soft as they found their synchronicity within their kiss, flavors of bananas, honey, and blueberries mingling. Chris tugged on her bottom lip with his teeth, giving it a harmless nip. A small mewl escaped as the Doctor gently excited her. 

“Olivia,” he growled into her ear, as he pushed his length against her bum, seeking a little relief. She pressed down, feeling his length against her. When she moved, Chris’s hips involuntarily rutted upward and prompted a keening from her. He'd been lavishing restless kisses and flicks of his tongue over her ear and down the column of her neck, each tease of his agile tongue driving her closer to spontaneous combustion. 

Chris realized they were getting too close to shagging right on her front porch. A sweet kiss had become a deep snog. With a reluctant groan, he pulled back to find her staring at him, her brown eyes turned black with need. Now, he knew she wanted him, but too much too soon would send Olivia running. 

She stared at him, her skin flushed and breathing fast. “You have too many talents for me to keep up with. That was some first kiss.” 

Olivia cupped his stubbled jaw and Chris leaned into her hand, placing a long, chaste kiss into her palm. “The first of many, I hope, Love.”

Olivia didn’t know what to say, so she smiled and nodded, hoping she didn’t look like a besotted idiot. 

“Oh, I don’t know-” Chris looked down at the collar of her polo neck sweater, wishing he could place a kiss on her pulse point. “If you’re free next weekend, I’d love to take you out again.”

“I think that’s very doable,” Olivia felt anticipation build in her chest and Chris gave her another kiss for her to look forward to the next weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While writing this chapter, Cher's song, "It's In His Kiss," came to mind.


	6. How The Doctor Does Domestics Whether He Wants To Or Not

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor doesn't do domestic until his sister and girlfriend tell him otherwise.

14th April, 2021, Wednesday

They saw each other often. He’d stop by Fenwick Library and take her to lunch or she’d show up after class and they catch a bite to eat before going to a movie. The past several weeks of dates with Christopher consisted of going to a winter carnival, attending a Union Omaha Soccer team home game and dinner at the Brazen Head Pub, a Michio Kaku lecture, cooking dinner together using molecular gastronomy and a Renaissance Faire. Many times, they’d be in a back corner of a coffee house, discussing theory, sharing dreams and hopes, or debating some issue that riled them to the point of passion.

Yet, while he held her hand, brushed his lips against her knuckles, hugged her often and kissed her forehead, things hadn’t progressed much beyond that point after the first night. Olivia thought if she were any more clam jammed that she’d turn blue and become a nun. After their dates, she treated herself to long hot showers and quality personal time. If she were any more erotically charged, she could be Lincoln’s power supply for the next week.

Two months into their relationship, Olivia’s pregnancy hormones made her feel friskier than she had felt in years. He had teased, caressed and nibbled, laved and suckled all the places perfectly acceptable for first base: neck, mouth and fingers. Yet, she craved more contact that wasn’t rated. She knew that Chris desired her as many times as she had felt his hard length against her, but he never took it beyond that of sweet caresses and toe-curling kisses. She needed and wanted more.

She debated taking the initiative because if she became anymore hot and bothered, she’d spontaneously combust. She also contemplated if she was ready to take that next step. She found herself feeling things for Dr. Christopher Noble that she wasn’t ready to name and she didn’t want to ruin their relationship by introducing sex before they knew other well. Being the bookworm she was, Olivia read every book and blog about dating an Englishman. She learned the differences between British and American dating. Relationships started subtly. Public displays of affection weren’t done early as often by Brits. A date a pub was considered just fine by him. 

She wondered it was because of their unexpected telepathic contact on their first date or if because she was pregnant. Olivia’s baby was her first priority and she wasn’t looking for a Daddy for her unborn. She was an independent woman with her own home, a varied stock portfolio, a 401(k) and a nest egg in the bank. She decided the casual approach was the best. Whenever feelings started bubbling to the surface or desire demanded satisfaction, she’d mentally recite the Gettysburg Address or the Bill of Rights in her head. 

She learned during her dating research that a staple of dating a Brit was the Pub. When Nora joined them for a bite to eat one night at the Rose and Crown Pub, Olivia kept a neutral face and eyes firmly planted on her non-alcoholic Margarita while the siblings bickered. When both tried drawing her into the fray, she gave an innocent smile and shrug and innocently, “Sorry, not getting involved in this drama. I got my Oscar for best situation comedy.”

“Are you coming to my birthday party?” Nora asked.

“What birthday party?” Olivia stiffened as minor panic invaded her brain. “You’re having a birthday party?”

“Oi, you daft gift,” she punched Christopher in the arm. “You’ve trying to keep my best mate from my birthday party?”

“No!” he looked genuinely stupefied, rubbing his arm. “That hurt.”

“Oh, quit your whinging,” Nora glanced toward the ceiling, shaking her head as she leaned forward toward Olivia. “You are coming, right?”

“I, uh, didn’t want to presume,” she gulped a good portion of her margarita. “I know that a lot of times things like this are only meant for family. I didn’t presume-”

“A bit of hush, you,” she gesticulated toward Olivia. “You’re already family, being his wife and all-”

“Huh?” Olivia’s eyes widened and her jaw fell slack. She stabbed a portion of her bangers and mash and took a bite. 

Chris growled something in a language that sounded vaguely familiar that Olivia almost understood. Nora sat upright, her own eyes wide as dinner plates. She knew Nora was furious when her best friend’s mouth became a thin line and her brown eyes sparked with a faint amber glow. 

“She, uh, means we’re practically connected at the hip,” she heard his Northern burr become pronounced with each word. Chris wrapped his arm around her. “So, you’re all right with her coming, then?’

Nora shook her head, resting her brow on her palm. “Are you always so bloody thick?”

Olivia saw Chris glower at Nora, his turning his eyes black. She felt that familiar tingle along her skin when her synesthesia went into overdrive. She closed her eyes to block it out as if that ever helped. A marbled flow of red and murky erupted from his ears accompanied by a faint salty, metallic smell. She saw Nora snorting dijon steam through her nostrils and it smelled like sulfur. The combined odors made Olivia’s stomach churn. “Hey, can you two turn down the stench a bit? Your emotions smell like a spoiled each sandwich drenched in mustard.” 

“She doesn’t know yet-” Chris’s eyes narrowed. 

“But, I thought-,” Nora started, motioning back and forth at them. “She doesn’t know? But, you said-”

“Nora, shut it,” Chris closed his eyes, slowing drawing in a deep breath. “I haven’t told Olivia yet.”

Olivia bent over the side of the booth holding her nose with her head between her legs. “Tell me what?”

“That ...we are….” she gave a helpless shrug. “Ollie, what’s wrong?”

“Heightened sense of smell is common in the first trimester of pregnancy,” she said.  
“Give me a minute and I’ll be fine.”

Chris gingerly helped Olivia sit upright while Nora started taking her pulse. She pressed the back of her hands to Nora’s forehead and cheeks. “Are you all right? Need help to the loo? Do you want some saltines? Water?”

Olivia gently pulled Nora’s cool hands away from her face, thinking they felt like ice. “I’m fine. I have no love for strong emotions. I can smell as well as see them. For whatever reason, Chris is angry with you and your defenses went sky high.”

The fine cloud of dirty yellow fog wafted away when Nora started fanning Olivia with a menu.“Chris was just afraid of inviting you since it’s a serious thing for you Americans to take a date to a family gathering. He didn’t want you you to run like a rabbit-”

“Oi!" Not helping, Nora-” Chris started.

“We all know you’re smitten with the girl,” Nora interrupted. “I want her there. You want her there. Say yes, Ollie.”

Olivia looked at two sets of eyes staring intently at her. She looked silently at Chris who gave her that manic, goofy grin. “C’mon, Love, come for me.”

Her heart fluttered. Olivia tried to hold back the grin threatening to break wide open. “I’d love to go. So, what’s the theme?”

“Theme?” Nora gave her a puzzled look. “Hadn’t thought about that. Just a gathering.”

“Nora,” Ollie ticked her disapproval. “Live a little. Bring a dash of excitement to your party. Give it a theme. You love 1950s Americana. Why not put on some Fifties tunes, put up a little décor? It doesn’t have to be much. Just have fun with it.”

“Like Elvis, Little Richard and Jerry Lee Lewis?” Nora asked, her voice laden with the excitement that replaced her vanishing frustration.

“Exactly,” Olivia leaned forward until she was almost nose-to-nose with Nora. “Cadillacs, bobby socks, penny loafers, poodle skirts, jukeboxes, rock-around-the-clock, Grease, fifties diner.”

“Ohh,” she flashed a million-dollar smile. “Ollie, that’s a great idea. I’ll leave it up to you and Chris.”

“I’m rubbish at domestics,” Chris held his hands up in defense. “Don't you dare and go make this domestic.

“Well, guess what, Big Brother?” Nora smirked. “You’re going to learn.”

“You don’t do domestic?” Ollie playfully poked Christopher’s chest. “Too late, Dude, you're doing domestics.”

“Oh, fantastic,” he moaned, scrubbing his face with his hands. “I’m doomed. “Oi, the humanity! What are you going to do, put me in a pink frilly apron?”

“Don’t tempt me, Dr. Noble,” Olivia said, her eyes gleaming with unspoken ideas. 

“Too late, Chris,” Nora snapped her fingers and winked. “You think you’re tough being from Salford. Watch a Nebraska girl get her farm on.”

“I'm gonna throw you shindig right in the middle of your backyard if it doesn’t snow or rain. Never can tell with Nebraska weather, you know. Then, we going to have one hell of a barbecue just like you’ve always wanted. After that, Nora Noble, just to finish it off, it’s going to be so good that you are going to lick the barbecue sauce off every one your fingers and ask for seconds. You want nostalgic Americana, you’ve got it.”

“I’m so excited!” Nora impulsively hugged her friend while squealing like a fan at a rock concert. “You’re the best mate a girl could have. I have to go tell Donna. She’ll love it. I’ll be right back. Have to see a man about a dog. I’ll “I’ll be back in a tick.”

She saw Christopher cross his arms and lean against the pub booth. “You absolutely have no idea or plan, did you, of what you’re you’re getting into?”

“We’ll wing it,” Olivia winked. “It just came to me in the middle of a sentence. Nora loves 1950s America. Barbecue is easy, décor is easy, music, easy. We’ve got this. By the way, since when did she suddenly become a dog lover?”

“She meant she was popping off to the loo,” he gave her a gentle smile. 

“You’re doing that Salford-speak again,” Ollie’s brow furrowed in concentration. “Popping means going quickly and loo is the toilet. Why didn’t she just say it?”

“Does it need saying?” he gave a small shrug. 

“Worst line a Doctor can say to a gal, Chris. Don't go there,” one brow arched in silent warning. 

“I think she wanted to go tell Donna,” Chris said. “Those two are like two leaves on the same tree.”

“Gee, ya think? I get that. My brother, Von, and I are thick as thieves. The neighborhood called us the Brat Pack.” Olivia smiled. “Family is everything, Chris. Date a man, you date his family,” she shrugged. 

“You really don’t mind doing this, do you?” he wore a look of joy and surprise. 

“Your sister is practically my sister,” she admitted. “She saw me through the whole mess with John. I don’t know what I would’ve done if she and Rita hadn’t been there. Besides, You and your siblings are a package deal. I’m getting one hell of a deal.”

He leaned forward until the tips of their noses touched. His voice was quiet and deep. “I’m the lucky one, Love. “Wrapped around your little finger, me.” 

The Doctor knew Olivia cared about him, had feelings for him, but there she kept herself apart from him, distant and aloof. She preferred actions rather than words. When she spoke her heart which was a rare thing, she spoke volumes. 

Olivia traced a path around where his heart should be, gently tugging the lapels of his black leather jacket before planting a slow, chaste kiss on his lips. “It’s equally mutual.”

“What do you see in me, Olivia Brasseaux?” Chris's voice sounded low and rough to her ears. “Besides big ears, big nose and leather?”

Out of all of his other selves at the end of the fairy tale. His predecessor died the final death to save Olivia, gifting Chris with his consciousness to keep on loving her. Nora didn’t get a happy ending and neither did the War Doctor. They’d banded together out of loneliness and mutual understanding that not everyone received a happily ever after. 

His pretty boy successor got Rose. Eleven turned into Twelve and ended up with River Song. No happy endings for him, Nora nor John Vincent. They were just six broken hearts Foxfire had fixed everything for everyone else, right down to turning some Daleks into kittens and Cybermen into trees, but not for the Time Lords whom no one loved. Until her. 

Nora had a best friend whom she wanted to be in love with her. John Vincent had refused to even help in healing Olivia. Chris was the one blessed or cursed broken psychic, mating and soul bonds that caused him nightmares night after night. To hear those three little words, ‘it’s equally mutual,’ made his hearts soar. 

He saw what she saw in his Seventeenth Self: cool, shy, undercover Alpha that won her with his mind and smooth lovemaking. With Eighteen, she had been overwhelmed by his sexual nature, but couldn’t admit it to herself. Olivia had been smitten with Eighteen Point Five whom she had affectionately called Eleven 2.0. He had been her soul mate with his geekiness and a smoldering undercurrent of sensuality. She had felt best with him. 

Now, she was dating a broken old man who had reverted to one of his testier selves, big ears and a big nose, callused hands. A saturnine, damaged warrior resurrected in error always meant to be alone and live countless times. How could she love him? Didn’t she know that he still burned with rage, still weary from living too long? Nora once said Olivia had “a thing” for Nine as “her Doctor.”

“How should I know?” she gave a glib reply. “There’s no accounting for taste.”

That had hurt. Deeply. He was the broken Time Lord who wore his broken hearts on his sleeve. 

“You’re not just big body parts and leather,” she scoffed, “You’re a force of nature to be reckoned with, Chris. You’re honest, trustworthy, unbelievably intelligent with way too many talents for your own good. You have a heart of gold and you put others before yourself. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. You’re passionate and you live, Chris. You truly live life and you do so much for everyone else often at your own expense. Plus, you know what?”

“What?” his face work that manic grin that she loved too much.

“As you’d say in your Salford speak, you’re dead sexy. I have a thing for geniuses who wear leather and a voice that could bring me to orgasm just by reading a textbook.”

He felt a bolt of need course right to his groin and make his pants a lot less comfortable. He grinned at Olivia’s admission, that was the frankest he had ever heard her talk about sex. 

“I don’t know what you see in me,” she said in a small voice. “I’m just a librarian. I’ve never written a best seller. I’m a hardcore geek, not a Playboy centerfold.”

He crooked his finger, gently lifting her chin so that her eyes met his. “No, you’re not just a librarian. Wrapped around your little finger, me. Can’t tell you no. You keep your head about you, always sensible. You keep me grounded when the universe goes mad. You’re independent and clever. You are a drink of water in the desert.”

Olivia pondered the emotion behind those words. She closed her eyes, letting her mind decipher his meaning. She felt intensity and urgency emanating from him that she hadn’t seen with open eyes. She gave a small smile and said nothing. 

“Oh, you’re sexy all right,” he whispered in her ear. “Long black curls I want to run my fingers through. Dark eyes, full lips and curves. You’ve no idea, Olivia, what I want to do you. You make me want things that I shouldn’t-”

“Maybe,” Olivia’s voice sounded breathy to her own ears. “you should. I have a few ideas of my own.”

“Olivia,” she heard his breath catch, ragged and dead. “What are you doing-”

“Of course,” Nora was within ten feet of the booth, chatting loudly into the phone. Christopher and Olivia pulled back as if they’d been caught necking in the cloakroom. 

She heard Donna’s voice loudly respond in the background. Olivia glanced sideways at the Doctor. “Definitely can tell those two are siblings, the Mouth and the Meddler.”

“Agreed,” he quickly squeezed her hand. “We’ll talk about things later, Love.”

“God, I hope so,” she bit her lip trying not to let her frustration show. 

“Ta, Donna,” Nora finished, sliding her mobile back into her bag. She looked over at the couple sitting side-by-side in the booth. “She said to text her with what you want to get for decorations and she’ll pick everything up this afternoon.”

“So, what do you want, birthday girl?” Olivia asked. “Kegger, cake and Chippingdale dancers?”

“Actually, I’m thinking American-style barbecue with you, Donna, John and Grumpy over here,” Nora rested her head on Chris’ shoulder. “and you.”

“No kegger, then?” Olivia gave her best sad face. 

“Nope,” Nora replied, popping the ‘p.’ “Pints of logger, cake and supper.”

“What?” she gave a glower and reeked with mock-disdain. “No margaritas? How dare you?”

“Because we’re English and we drink like men,” Nora replied.

“If I weren’t expecting, I’d take that as a challenge.”

“Those are fighting words, Yank,” Nora said with a wild gleam your eye. “You’re dealing with a Salford girl.”

“Yeah, and?” Olivia whirled her finger around in the air, scoffing at her boss. “Like you’re so impressive? Uh, not so much.”

“I am, too, so impressive,” Nora looked truly offended. “I’ll have you know-”

“Ladies,” Chris interrupted.

Ollie and Nora looked at each other, at Chris, then back at each other. Then, they laughed. “You really think me and Ollie would have it out? We’re just playing about, us. We do this all the time.”

“Handsome,” Olivia gestured between Nora and herself. “it’s just what we do. It’s all in fun. Besides, if she didn’t like the US, she wouldn’t have come here, right?”

“Exactly,” Nora grinned. “We have to have pints, though.”

“I get to be designated driver, as usual,” Olivia slumped back in the booth. “Yay.”

“Don’t worry, Love,” Chris planted a kiss to Ollie’s brow. “We’ll have fizzy drinks there for you. I’ll make you the best tequila-free margarita you’ve ever had.”

Nora leaned over, ambushing Christopher with a peck on the cheek. “You’re the best big brother ever. I’ve got to get the menu together. Later.”

“Please, don’t tell her that I forgot it’s her birthday this weekend,” she looked at Chris with wide, brown eyes. “She’d kill me.”

“Easy, Love,” he soothingly ran his calloused hands up and down her shoulders and upper arms. “She’s not going to know if you keep a bit o’ hush about you.”

“Easy for you to say,” she huffed. “Someone looks at you the wrong way and you give them the oncoming storm gaze and they leave you alone. I try that and they ask if I’m constipated.”

Christopher chuckled at Olivia’s anxious humor. When nervous, cheeky quips were her specialty. That was how she dealt with stress, worry, anger and pain. She hid it all behind rapid-fire retorts and acrid remarks. 

“How old will Nora be?” she asked. 

“Twenty-nine.”

“So, how fancy of a mind warp does Nora want this to be?”

“She wants to feel loved.” Chris sighed. “You’re the one person outside of family that she thinks of as family.”

“Then,” Olivia blinked several times, willing away the wetness behind her eyes to disappear. “I can’t let my bestie down.”

“Then, you’re coming with me to my house,” Chris beamed. 

Brown eyes widened behind blue spectacle frames. “I guess I am. Wow, I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Where else would we hold a party?” He planted a quick peck on the tip of her nose. “I want to show off my girl.”

“Am I your girl, Chris?” her question was quiet. Olivia played a loose thread on the sleeve of her light pink sweater sleeve. “We’ve been dating for a couple of months and we haven’t talked about getting serious.” “

“Don’t you know how I feel about you?” Blue eyes bore into her soul. 

Olivia’s breath hitched when she looked into his eyes. She saw desire, love and need burning. She felt exhilarated and terrified knowing that he felt about her that way. She tasted his possession on her tongue, honey and salt.

Onyx eyes met his ice blue gaze. She placed her hand on his chest. “I want to hear you say tell me.”

“Want to bring me to my knees?” 

“No, never that. Not like that.” she whispered, shaking her head. “I wouldn’t.”

His Northern burr grew stronger whenever and his voice lower. "I'd better tell you, now, Olivia, I don't want to share you with anyone. I want to be yours and only yours.”

“I rather like that idea,” she beamed. “So, exclusive, then? I’m yours?”

“Yeah,” Chris leaned forward. “If that’s all right. Can I be your bloke?”

“Oh, yes,” she rested her brow against his with her hand to his chest. He grasped it, entwining his fingers with hers. Chris placed fleeting kiss on her knuckles. “I’m yours.”

“Fantastic,” he pressed his lips against her hand. 

Olivia’s eyes fluttered shut, resolved to bring her her excitement under control. Taking several deep breaths, she slowly pulled away. Chris’s brows furrowed with silent "uncertainty. 

“So, what time on Saturday and what should I bring?” she asked. 

“3 o’clock, yourself and your appetite,” he assured her. “We’ll figure out the rest as we go.”

She gave a helpless shrug. “Have you thought about how the rest of your family is going to react when you bring home a girlfriend pregnant with someone else’s baby?”

“You’re one of Nora’s closest mates and the only woman in Lincoln she hasn’t shagged," he scoffed. “If John Vincent doesn’t like it, he can piss off.”

“John Vincent?”Olivia cocked her head to the side. “I’ve never met him.”

“No,” he grinned,” but a right grumpy sod most of the time. “but, he’s all right after a couple of pints.

“Thanks for the warning,” Olivia silently sipped her margarita, hoping this family get-together didn’t blow up in her face. 

TO BE CONTINUED . . .


	7. What Lies Beneath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Introspection of Olivia's thoughts, fears, and hopes.

15th April 2021, Thursday evening.

“What the hell have I gotten myself into?” Olivia bit her bottom lip. She sat at her kitchen table with a glass of iced tea in front of her and a smartphone in her right hand. Her nails clicked a quick staccato pattern against the glass screen, a heavy sigh escaped as she silently willed the phone to load data more quickly. “You piece of junk, hurry up!”

She knew there would only be five people there, the four Noble siblings and herself. Olivia had met Donna a few times when she had appointments with Doctor Kyle but had never met John Vincent. She wanted to make a positive impression on him because Christopher was the best thing that had happened to her in years. What had she been thinking when she thought she could plan Nora’s party? The last thing Olivia wanted was Christopher’s family thinking she was overbearing and arrogant.

Maybe, it wasn’t too late to back out and explain that her good intentions overstepped boundaries due to ego. Olivia abandoned her search for the perfect gift, dialing Nora’s number. The silence on the line stretched into endless seconds before she heard the first ring, then two. 

“Hello?” Nora’s warm voice finally answered.

Heat flowed over her skin from her cheeks, her mouth tasted sour and dry as she licked her lips, trying to get her words formed. “Nora, hi.”

“Doing well,” she said, pausing for a second. “You normally don’t call unless there’s an emergency. Is everything okay?”

“No emergency. No worries,” Olivia replied. 

“Were you wanting to speak with Chris?” Nora asked. 

“I called to talk to you,” Olivia played with one of her curls, glad that Nora couldn’t see her face. Pride was Olivia’s strength and vice. She hated giving apologies. Experience taught her that when she apologized, the recipient manipulated her or thought she was easy prey. She brushed the apprehension aside. This was Nora, her best friend on the other end of the line. 

“Are you all right?” Nora asked, confusion evident in the upward pitch at the end of her question. “Luv, I know something is bothering you. Talk to me. You know you can tell me anything.”

“Yeah,” Olivia swallowed. “Okay, I’m calling to apologize.”

“Whatever for?” Nora’s exclamation made Ollie pull the phone away from her ear. 

“I wasn’t thinking when I told you how you should do your own birthday party,” Olivia started. “It was rude and thoughtless of me.”

“I thought your idea was mint,” Nora replied. “Who told you it was rude or thoughtless?”

“No one,” Olivia’s voice became quiet and small with a hint of a tremble. “I came to that realization on my own.”

“Trust me, Ollie, if it had been rude or condescending, I’d have told you.” 

Olivia took a sip of her iced tea, relief replacing the nervousness she felt. She exhaled slowly, “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely,” Nora’s warm, quiet voice soothed her twitching nerves. It a voice had flavor, it was mint hot chocolate with all the marshmallows. 

‘What is it with the Nobles and their voices?’ Olivia thought, ‘Damn, they’re good with the mojo.” 

“Then, I’ll get a shift on,” Olivia breathed a sigh of relief. “What would you like for your party?”

“I want 1950s Americana goodness, of course, and lots of Guinness.”

Olivia’s face contorted into a pained expression at the thought of warm beer at a picnic. Still, Nora was undeniably English and she didn’t want to upset the birthday girl. Shaking her head in disdain, Olivia cringed and brushed aside the thought of it. “So, 1950s goodness it is then. How does a good, old-fashioned picnic sound?"

“That sounds lovely,” joy saturated Nora’s voice. 

“Flavor of cake?” 

“Red velvet with chocolate frosting,” Nora said.

“That is certainly doable,” Olivia agreed, reaching for the notepad on the table, quickly scribbling notes. 

DWDWDWDW

Olivia felt invincible now that she had a list. She ordered the red velvet cake with chocolate, then purchased the chicken, potato salad, and other side dishes for a vintage picnic. A song she liked started playing over the speaker and she indulged the impulse of dancing in the aisle. She made sure she had several six-packs of Guinness in her shopping cart to keep the Nobles happily intoxicated. 

Olivia focused her concentration on the next part of her plan: the family. She knew Christopher was witty, sarcastic, and devoted to his siblings. Olivia decided to endear herself to Donna as the net move. She knew from Christopher that Dona was clever and cheek with a fiery temper and a compassionate heart. Olivia speculated that Donna possessed a quicksilver mindset, concealing insecurity beneath layers of frenetic moxie. The way to Donna’s heart wasn’t manipulation, but inspiration. Asking for Donna’s help guaranteed that the party would be a smash. 

Olivia called Donna who happily agreed to help set up things for Nora’s party. Donna dealt with the decorating portion of the party and Olivia felt quite happy not to have to hang up streamers or blow up balloons. She agreed that was the cleverest idea yet and meant it when she said it. Donna’s beaming smile nearly blinded Olivia through the phone lines. 

DWDWDWDW

16 April 2021, Friday morning.

Olivia took the day off from work to get everything done that she’d been putting off for weeks. Nora’s birthday party represented a plethora of milestones that meant everything was about to change. It was the first time she was attending a friend’s party in several years and meeting Christopher’s family. She gently cradled her stomach, excited that her waistband felt a bit tight. She also had an appointment with her obstetrician for her monthly prenatal checkup. 

She looked down at the gently barely-there swell of her growing unborn. She needed to start planning for the baby’s arrival rather than just imagining it. Olivia had her general practitioner send her medical records to an OB-GYN in Council Bluffs knowing Dr. Kyle would act like a scalded cat if she knew that Olivia had gone out of St. Gertrude’s to another medical practice. 

The rest of the day, Olivia immersed herself into the mom-to-be experience by purchasing maternity clothing, diapers, and furniture for the future nursery. She had desperately wanted to ask Christopher to join her on the trip, but he wasn’t her baby’s father, and dating him didn’t make him Daddy. Looking at the cart full of purchases, she leaned against, feeling tears prick the backs of her eyelids. “Oh, Chris I wish it had been you.”

She knew that she was alone in her pregnancy and hadn’t yet told her brother, Von. She longed for her little brother, wishing he was there with her. She planned on calling Von later that day to deliver the news that he was going to be an uncle. She also had yet to meet Von’s latest Prince Charming that he’d been dating for almost six months. 

Two hours later, Olivia sat on an examination table at the doctor's office as a petite woman wearing orange scrubs wrapped a blood pressure cuff around her wrist. Her face looked as if her frown had been permanently set in concrete. She pumped the bulb of the blood pressure gage, saying nothing as the cuff tightened uncomfortably around Olivia's upper arm. She saw the physician's assistant's brows furrow as she studied the readings.

Olivia took a second to read the physician assistant's nametag, "Kim, you look puzzled. What's my blood pressure?"

"240 over 180," Kim never took her eyes off the gauge. "Those are dangerously high levels."

"Or I'm a giraffe," Olivia replied. She saw a gray fog form over Kim's head accompanied by the smell of strong rubbing alcohol. A bitter alcoholic taste filled Olivia's mouth as the scent of burning plastic emanated from the physician's assistant. The assistant smelled and tasted of confusion and frustration. Olivia willed her face to remain neutral and her voice pleasant. "Giraffes have the highest blood pressure in the world."

"It's not a laughing matter, Ms. Brasseaux," Kim glanced at Olivia, then reached for the thermometer gun. Quickly passing it over to Olivia, it beeped a few times. Kim examined the gun, her face screwing into a contorted expression of annoyance. "Your body temperature reads 60 degrees."

"So, in celsius, that means I'm frying like an egg. In Fahrenheit, I'm a corpse." 

Kim scribbled the findings on Olivia's chart. "It's not a laughing matter."

"Could something be causing your medical equipment to malfunction?" 

Kim ignored Olivia's comment. "Doctor Vi will be in to see you shortly." Olivia watched the assistant toss the thermometer gun and blood pressure cuff carelessly onto the counter before exiting the examination room.

"Maybe, if you treated your medical equipment better, it wouldn't be malfunctioning," Olivia sniped to an empty room. She didn't understand why Kim was grouchy and unprofessional. 

Olivia had done meticulous research to find the best OB-GYN in Omaha, away from Lincoln and that quality of care didn't come cheap. 'No wonder they're so expensive if they keep having to buy new equipment.'

Olivia sat on the examination table in a hospital gown and her feet in the stirrups when Dr. Vi entered the examination room. Dr. Vi was a chatty woman in her forties and a smile that was the antithesis of Kim's sour attitude. While performing the pelvic exam, she asked Olivia all sorts of questions and made good conversation. Olivia was impressed that she had warmed up the speculum. After the exam, Dr. Vi put the warm stethoscope to one side of Olivia's chest and then the other, listening for several seconds before her eyes widened and her eyebrows shot upward. Shaking her head, she repeated the action. “That can’t be right.”

“What can’t be right?” Olivia asked, glancing at the doctor.

“You sound like you have two heartbeats,” Dr. Vi replied. 

She checked Olivia’s pulse and had Kim draw a blood sample. When the physician's assistant tried inserting the needle into Olivia's vein, the needle broke without penetrating the skin. With a new syringe, Kim plunged the needle into her skin, causing Olivia to gasp in pain. She watched as her blood slowly filled the syringe, looking more ocher than red.

The Doctor apologized for the malfunctioning equipment and asked Olivia to make an appointment for the following week so proper vital signs could be taken. Dr. Vi wrote her a prescription for prenatal vitamins. While leaving, she heard the physician's assistant and the Doctor talking about Olivia’s strange readings. Olivia decided not to book another appointment and quickly left the office.. 

She missed Chris and wished that he’d been there with her. She wished her parents were there to give her advice, but glad they weren’t. Olivia didn’t know how she would’ve explained that she didn’t remember the baby’s father or getting pregnant. Olivia sat in the food court of her favorite Omaha mall, picking at her food and considering baby names. She quickly decided that she didn’t want to name the baby after family members because she wanted her little one to have his or her own identity.

She considered exotic names such as Andromeda, Nova, and unisex names like Harlow and Reese. Olivia rather liked the names, Cordelia and Nova. Taking a bite of her Sesame Chicken, she contemplated trendy names like Alva and Caspian and unusual such as Apollo and Jaxon. While finishing the last of her iced tea, she had decided on Cordelia for a girl and Zane for a boy. Olivia wasn’t ready to even start thinking about middle names.

Her mind had thousands of miles a second. Olivia contemplated what little she knew about her pregnancy. Her OB-GYN saw no recent trauma to her vaginal or rectal tissue, meaning the baby hadn’t been conceived through a non-consensual act. Talking to her Whovian friends, she’d learned nothing, but had found a Christmas card stashed away in her business papers that read, ‘With all my love, Jules.’ She didn’t know anyone named Jules. 

Rita had met Jules once during the holidays. She had described him as tall, “lithe and lean” were her exact works with “curly black hair and pale as a bedsheet.” She said he was a cross between Sherlock Holmes and Loki. She had one photograph of Olivia and Jules together taken shortly before Christmas, one that Olivia meticulously analyzed for further clues. She realized the red scarf that she adored had been worn by Jules in the one photo together.

Rita stated that the two had been caught in each other’s orbit. Olivia knew that Jules, whoever he was, had to be the father of her child. They looked at each other in the candid photo, oblivious to the world around them. The only other facts Rita knew was that he was British and possibly in his mid-thirties. Then, he simply vanished.

So, if he had been around that time in late 2020, why weren’t there more photographs? She and Nora had been best friends during that time, but Olivia didn’t recall ever mentioning Jules to Nora or introducing them. She searched her memories, finding it odd that she and Nora had been friends for two years, but Nora and Jules hadn’t crossed paths. Then again, she’d never asked Nora about Jules.

Olivia’s thoughts wandered as she put Rita’s words with her own memories. Things simply didn’t fit. Olivia knew she was an introvert, but she’d never have kept the person she loved as a secret. Why weren’t there pictures of them or more mementos? Maybe, as Rita had said, it had been a whirlwind romance. Olivia had denied the missing time of her life because she hadn’t wanted to deal with it. Now, she was in a place in her life where it seemed as though her recent past and thought it odd there were no clues, no evidence, no one mentioning it to her. 

She wrote down her thoughts in a journal, organized by category and date, resolute in recovering her lost memories. She had been briefly with a British man named Jules with pale skin and dark hair. Tall and lean, he had captivated her, according to Rita. Why had they parted? Had they fought? Did he leave when he found out she was pregnant? Was he a criminal? Why couldn’t she remember? Had their relationship been a traumatic experience and amnesia was a defense mechanism?

Olivia decided to walk around the mall to stretch her legs. Olivia knew she wasn’t the type to indulge in a one-night stand just for the sake of physical pleasure. She had sworn off men after her last boyfriend, John, after he had ghosted her with only a brief phone message stating he had moved back to the UK. She had withdrawn into herself so far that she had cut off almost contact with most people because she didn’t want to be hurt again by anyone. She kept her life to herself because privacy meant protection. People couldn’t use anything against her if they didn’t know about it.

“C’mon, Ollie, narrow it down. Did I get rid of everything that reminded me of Jules?” Olivia asked aloud, wondering why there wasn’t much evidence of their time together. “That sounds like me. One and done. Yet, I kept a Christmas, a red scarf, and one lone photo.”

A dark thought crossed her mind when she stopped to window shop in front of one of her favorite stores. Had he died? Maybe, it had been a whirlwind romance and he had died soon after they met. She felt a heaviness in her chest and tears stung in her eyes. The swell of heartache burning in her chest told her that she wasn’t far off the mark. Her dad had said many times, “Your strongest memories are the ones that you feel the most.”

That was how she knew she and Jules hadn’t ended on bad terms: she had the Christmas Card and his red scarf. That meant they hadn’t been together long enough to acquire mementos and souvenirs, but he had meant enough to her that she had kept his scarf and it explained her fondness for wearing it. The subconscious mind had its mysterious ways of reminding her of him. 

Dr. Vi had told her too much caffeine wasn’t good during her pregnancy, but Olivia craved another glass of iced !!br0ken!! chuckled at the thought of how everything good in the world she learned from Doctor Who. “Bingo! Just what the doctor ordered. There’s nothing like a tall, cool glass of iced tea to rid stress and fight cavities. Works for me.” 

Olivia penned her thoughts with a journal and pen that brought the oddest feeling of sentiment to her. She loved the velvet journal cover and how well the pen flowed with each written word. She had found them in her purse, but couldn’t remember where she had bought them. She knew they weren’t a Christmas gift because she hadn’t exchanged gifts with anyone that year. She hadn’t since John. When she finished, she tucked them away, fondly rubbed the red scarf between her fingers, and mourned a man she couldn’t remember.

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter was inspired by the Lyrics of "Black Holes and Revelations" by Muse. The Third Chapter's song is "I Just Haven't Met You Yet" by Michael Buble.


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